children-s

...in the middle of the field, Harry suddenly stopped and looked back. Mr. Chad was all alone in the creepy woods. He could take care of himself...couldn't he? Of course he could, he was a teacher.

Better to have to retrace your steps and then move forward than never to move forward at all.

One may enter the literary parlor via just about any door, be it the prison door, the madhouse door, or the brothel door. There is but one door one may not enter it through, which is the child room door. The critics will never forgive you such. The great Rudyard Kipling is one of a number of people to have suffered from this. I keep wondering to myself what this peculiar contempt towards anything related to childhood is all about.

I__ unhappy doing just mole stuff. What__ wrong with me? Why couldn__ I look forward to digging my own burrow?

If history repeats itself, I am so getting a dinosaur!

What we do is what means the most.

A whizzpopper!" cried the BFG, beaming at her. "Us giants is making whizzpoppers all the time! Whizzpopping is a sign of happiness. It is music in our ears! You surely is not telling me that a little whizzpopping if forbidden among human beans?

Good isn't obsessed to win ButBad is destined to lose

if something is there, you can only see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones.

One day this war will end. And when it does, Tule Lake will be just a memory.

Adversity is only yet another means to remind us of 'How Truly Awsome We All Are'!

There's my baby!" I cried, quite carried away, "There's my poochiekins!"..."Sadie," My dad said firmly, "Please do not refer to the devourer of souls as 'poochiekins'.

As soon as I open this door, I'll be free. FREE! No more goofy cats screaming in my face and eating my shoes. No more biting and scratching and chasing me down the street. Outside this door is a big, wonderful world where goofy cats don't turn into furry whirlwinds that hit me on the head with a spatula. And soon I will be a part of that world once again!

Ourchestra:So you haven't got a drum, just beat your belly.So I haven't got a horn-I'll play my nose.So we haven't any cymbals-We'll just slap our hands together,And though there may be orchestrasThat sound a little betterWith their fancy shiny instrumentsThat cost an awful lot-Hey, we're making music twice as goodBy playing what we've got!