The Secret Garden
1911

The Secret Garden
1911
Mary Lennox arrives at Misselthwaite Manor a creature of fury: spoiled, sullen, and utterly alone. Her parents are dead, cholera swept them away in India, and now she is packed off to a vast, gray English estate where even the servants seem to wish she hadn't come. The house is full of locked doors and whispered secrets. Her cousin Colin, hidden away in his own wing, screams at the world from behind closed doors. But Mary is not a child who will stay defeated. When she finds the key to a garden that has been locked for ten years, she discovers something that no one else dares to believe in: the stubborn, improbable magic of things coming back to life. With the help of Dickon, a Yorkshire boy who speaks the language of animals and plants, she tends the hidden space. What blooms there transforms everything: Colin's health, Mary's heart, and the deadened spirit of Misselthwaite itself. This is a novel about what grows when we stop being so angry and let the world in.
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“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"..."It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands out and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with the millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“She made herself stronger by fighting with the wind.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“Where you tend a rose my lad, a thistle cannot grow.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“Of course there must be lots of Magic in the world," he said wisely one day, "but people don't know what it is like or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen. I am going to try and experiment.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett
“And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.””
— Frances Hodgson Burnett






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