Algernon Blackwood

“ There was no breath of wind.
"There's simply nothing to do," the children said--when suddenly Uncle Felix arrived, and their listlessness was turned to life and interest. He had gone up in the morning to London, and the suddenness of his return was part of his prerogative. Stumper, Jinks, and other folk were announced days and days beforehand, but Uncle Felix just-- came.
"We'll go to the End of the World," he decided gravely, the moment he had changed. "There's something going on there. Quick!" This meant, as all knew, that he had an idea. They stole out, and no one saw them go. ”

“ They grow for the End of the World, and the End of the World belongs to them. This wonderful spot will have no beauty when they're gone." To wear a blossom in the hair or buttonhole was to be protected against decay and ugliness.
Most wonderful of all, however, was the door in the old grey fence; for it was a Gateway, and a Gateway, according to Uncle Felix, was a solemn thing. ”

“ These withered-up messes Is worn-out old dresses I tuck round the boots Of the shiverin' roots Till the Spring makes 'em over Like roses and clover-- But nobody wants dead leaves, dead leaves, Nor nobody wants their shade!" A deserted corner, yet crowded gloriously with life. Adventure lurked in every inch. ”

“ Tim said once, when they discussed dying as if it were a game. He wished to define his position, as it were.
"But you haven't been to London yet," came the higher criticism from Judy. "London's a metropolis."
Metropolis! It was an awful thing to say, though no one quite knew why. Part of their dread was traceable to this word. Ever since some one had called it "the metropolis" in their hearing, they had associated vague awe with the place. The ending "opolis" sounded to them like something that might come "ontopofus"--and that, again, brought "octopus" into the mind. ”

“ Maria watched them from the ground, prepared to follow in any direction, but in no hurry until a plan was decided.
"The keyhole!" cried Tim loudly, and at the same moment a huge blackbird flew out of the shrubberies behind them, and flashed across the open space toward the orchard on the other side. It whistled a long, shrill scream of warning. It was bigger by far than any ordinary blackbird.
"Home! Quick! Run for your lives!" cried some one, as they dashed for the safety of the elm tree. Even Maria ran. ”

“ From this point of view alone he knew the End of the World; he was worthy of no other. His epitaph was appalling--too horrible to mention really. Tim composed it, but Uncle Felix distinctly said that it never, never must be referred to audibly again:
Here Matthew Jinks Just lies and st-- "It's not nice," he said emphatically, "and you mustn't say it. Always speak well of the dead." ”