A.A. Milne

If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.

Nowhere can I think so happily as in a train. I am not inspired; nothing so uncomfortable as that. I am never seized with a sudden idea for a masterpiece, nor form a sudden plan for some new enterprise. My thoughts are just pleasantly reflective. I think of all the good deeds I have done, and (when these give out) of all the good deeds I am going to do. I look out of the window and say lazily to myself, __ow jolly to live there_; and a little farther on, __ow jolly not to live there._ I see a cow, and I wonder what it is like to be a cow, and I wonder whether the cow wonders what it is to be like me; and perhaps, by this time, we have passed on to a sheep, and I wonder if it is more fun being a sheep. My mind wanders on in a way which would annoy Pelman a good deal, but it wanders on quite happily, and the __lankety-clank_ of the train adds a very soothing accompaniment. So soothing, indeed, that at any moment I can close my eyes and pass into a pleasant state of sleep.

Get out of my chair, dillhole!

Friendship," said Christopher Robin, "is a very comforting thing to have.

By the time it came to the edge of the Forest, the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it said to itself, __here is no hurry. We shall get there some day._ But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.

VespersLittle Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,Droops on the little hands little gold head.Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.God bless Mummy. I know that's right.Wasn't it fun in the bath tonight?The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.Oh! God bless Daddy -- I quite forgot.If I open my fingers a little bit more,I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,And pull the hood right over my head,And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,And nobody knows that I'm there at all.Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.And what was the other I had to say?I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be?Oh! Now I remember. God bless Me.Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed.Droops on the little hands little gold head.Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.

Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would, I'd never leave.

One of the difficulties of thinking clearly about anything is that it is almost impossible not to form our ideas in words which have some previous association for us; with the result that our thought is already shaped along certain lines before we have begun to follow it out. Again, a word may have various meanings, and our use of it in one sense may deceive our readers (or even ourselves) into supposing that we were using it in some other sense.

In the language of the day it is customary to describe a certain sort of book as __scapist_ literature. As I understand it, the adjective implies, a little condescendingly, that the life therein depicted cannot be identified with the real life which the critic knows so well in W.C.1: and may even have the disastrous effect on the reader of taking him happily for a few hours out of his own real life in N.W.8. Why this should be a matter for regret I do not know; nor why realism in a novel is so much admired when realism in a picture is condemned as mere photography; nor, I might add, why drink and fornication should seem to bring the realist closer to real life than, say, golf and gardening.

How do you spell 'love'?" - Piglet"You don't spell it...you feel it." - Pooh

Hallo, Pooh,_ said Rabbit.__allo, Rabbit,_ said Pooh dreamily.__id you make that song up?___ell, I sort of made it up,_ said Pooh. __t isn__ Brain,_ he went on humbly, __ecause You Know Why, Rabbit; but it comes to me sometimes.___h!_ said Rabbit, who never let things come to him, but always went and fetched them.

It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal.

If you were a bird, and lived on high,You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,You'd say to the wind when it took you away:"That's where I wanted to go today!

If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,You'd sail on the water as blue as air.And you'd see me here in the fields and say:"Doesn't the sky look green today?

Pooh hasn't much Brain, but he never comes to any harm. He does silly things and they turn out right. There's Owl. Owl hasn't exactly got Brain, but he Knows Things. He would know the Right Thing to Do when Surrounded by Water. There's Rabbit. He hasn't Learnt in Books, but he can always Think of a Clever Plan. There's Kanga. She isn't Clever, Kanga isn't, but she would be so anxious about Roo that she would do a Good Thing to Do without thinking about it. And then there's Eeyore. And Eeyore is so miserable anyhow that he wouldn't mind about this.

Whatever his weight in pounds and ounces, he always seems bigger because of his bounces.

Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!_ said Piglet, feeling him. Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time.