Now that you've got me right down to it, the only thing I didn't like about The Barrets of Wimplole Street was the play.

They say of me, and so they should, It's doubtful if I come to good. I see acquaintances and friends Accumulating dividends And making enviable names In science, art and parlor games. But I, despite expert advice, Keep doing things I think are nice, And though to good I never come Inseparable my nose and thumb.

Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair.

Civilization is coming to an end, you understand.

They say of me, and so they should, It's doubtful if I come to good.

Four be the things I'd have been better without: love, curiosity, freckles and doubt.

He is a writer for the ages, the ages of four to eight.