On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.
Never ascribe to an opponent motives meaner than your own.
It is very well to be able to write a book, but can you waggle your ears?
Boy, why are you crying?
I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go.
I wasn't crying about mothers," he said rather indignantly. "I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't crying.