Then would you read a Sustaining Book, such as would help and comfort a Wedged Bear in Great Tightness.
That's right," said Eeyore. "Sing. Umty-tiddly, umty-too. Here we go gathering Nuts and May. Enjoy yourself." "I am," said Pooh.
It gets you nowhere if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.
Tiggers don't like honey.
I did know once, only I've sort of forgotten.
To seem natural rather than to be natural.
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread.
When I was young, we always had mornings like this.
Whereas men of an older school, like myself, smoke for the pleasure of smoking, men of this school smoke for the pleasure of pipe-owning-of selecting which of their many white-spotted pipes they will fill with their specially blended tobacco, of filling the one so chosen, of lighting it, of taking it from the mouth to gaze lovingly at the white spot and thus letting it go out, of lighting it again and letting it go out again, of polishing it up with their own special polisher and putting it to bed, and then the pleasure of beginning all over again with another white-spotted one.
The difficulty in the way of writing a children's play is that Barrie was born too soon. Many people must have felt the same about Shakespeare. We who came later have no chance. What fun to have been Adam, and to have had the whole world of plots and jokes and stories at one's disposal.
Gone out. Backson. Busy backson.
Did I miss?" you asked. "You didn't exactly miss," said Pooh, "But you missed the balloon." "I'm so sorry," you said, and you fired again, and this time you hit the balloon and the air came slowly out, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground.
It is impossible to win gracefully at chess. No man has yet said "Mate!" in a voice which failed to sound to his opponent bitter, boastful and malicious.
I found a little beetle, so that beetle was his name
Drinking your milk and talking at the same time may result in your having to be patted on the back and dried for quite a long time afterwords.
Piglet opened the letter box and climbed in. Then, having untied himself, he began to squeeze into the slit, through which in the old days when front doors were front doors, many an unexpected letter than WOL had written to himself, had come slipping.
I have a house where I go, When there's too many people, I have a house where I go Where no one can be; I have a house where I go, Where nobody ever says "no" Where no one says anything - so There is no one but me.
Walking with her man, Lost in a dream
It was a drowsy summer afternoon, and the Forest was full of gentle sounds, which all seemed to be saying to Pooh, 'Don't listen to Rabbit, listen to me.' So he got in a comfortable position for not listening to Rabbit.
And I’d say to myself as I looked so lazily down at the sea: “There’s nobody else in the world, and the world was made for me.
Pooh," said Rabbit kindly, "you haven't any brain." "I know," said Pooh humbly.
They wanted to come in after the pounds", explained Pooh, "so I let them. It's the best way to write poetry, letting things come.
He thought how sad it was to be an Animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him.
When having a smackerel of something with a friend, don't eat so much that you get stuck in the doorway trying to get out.
Hallo, Eeyore." "Same to you, Pooh Bear, and twice on Thursdays," said Eeyore gloomily. Before Pooh could say: 'Why Thursdays?' Christopher Robin began to explain the sad story of Eeyore's lost house.
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