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.

His dress told her nothing, but his face told her things which she was glad to know.

Tut, Tut, looks like rain

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.

We can’t all and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.

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.

No doubt Jack the Ripper excused himself on the grounds that it was human nature.