Michael, you shall have some syrup of figs. - P. L. Travers

All right, indeed! That was hardly the word. All right, in her blue jacket with the silver buttons! All right with her gold locket round her neck! All right with the parrot-headed umbrella under her arm!

What's the good of knowing if you don't tell anyone?

We Butchers, you know, like a bit of company. And we don’t often get the chance of talking to a nice, handsome young lady like you — — ” He broke off suddenly, for he had caught sight of Mary Poppins’s face.