Chess has this in common with making poetry; that the desire for it comes upon the amateur in gusts.

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh?" he whispered. "Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. "I just wanted to be sure of you.

Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?' 'Supposing it didn't,' said Pooh after careful thought. Piglet was comforted by this.

But, of course, it isn't really Good-bye, because the Forest will always be there... and anybody who is Friendly with Bears can find it.

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

Chess has this in common with making poetry; that the desire for it comes upon the amateur in gusts.

A pipe in the mouth makes it clear that there has been no mistake-you are undoubtedly a man.