In the quiet hours when we are alone and there is nobody to tell us what fine fellows we are, we come sometimes upon a moment in which we wonder, not how much money we are earning, nor how famous we have become, but what good we are doing.

No brain at all, some of them [people], only grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake, and they don't Think.

One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows.

When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there.

Some people care too much. I think it's called love.

No sensible author wants anything but praise.

The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh: "I suppose all these people know better than I. It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).