Hallo, Eeyore." "Same to you, Pooh Bear, and twice on Thursdays," said Eeyore gloomily. Before Pooh could say: 'Why Thursdays?' Christopher Robin began to explain the sad story of Eeyore's lost house.

I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen.

Mind over matter, will make the Pooh unfatter.

She also considered very seriously what she would look like in a little cottage in the middle of the forest, dressed in a melancholy gray and holding communion only with the birds and trees; a life of retirement away from the vain world; a life into which no man came. It had its attractions, but she decided that gray did not suit her.

Some have brains, and some haven't, and there it is.

It was a drowsy summer afternoon, and the Forest was full of gentle sounds, which all seemed to be saying to Pooh, 'Don't listen to Rabbit, listen to me.' So he got in a comfortable position for not listening to Rabbit.

The other day I met a man who didn't know where Tripoli was. Tripoli happened to come into the conversation, and he was evidently at a loss. "Let's see," he said. "Tripoli is just down by the - er - you know. What's the name of that place?" "That's right," I answered, "just opposite, Thingumabob. I could show you in a minute on a map. It's near - what do they call it?" At this moment the train stopped, and I got out and went straight home to look at my atlas.