Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some chamomile tea: "One table-spoonful to be taken at bedtime.

Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.

What we call the highest and the lowest in nature are both equally perfect. A willow bush is as beautiful as the human form divine.

I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding

I am worn to a raveling.

I do so hate finishing books. I would like to go on with them for years.

Most people, after one success, are so cringingly afraid of doing less well that they rub all the edge off their subsequent work.