"Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nothin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im."

"'I don't keer w'at you do wid me, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'so you don't fling me in dat brier-patch. Roas' me, Brer Fox' sezee, 'but don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee."

"Ez soshubble ez a baskit er kittens."

"The few contributions we have made to literature have not seemed to stem the tide of prejudice, nor have the efforts of Cable and Donelly changed the place in literature given to us by Mrs. Stowe, Joel Harris, Opie Reid. Nowhere do we find spread to the world’s gaze a work that portrays Afro-American life in its true likeness. Twenty-five years of freedom have furnished novel coloring and strange situations out of which to evolve a strong, vigorous sketch of Afro-American life at its best, and illustrate the genius which has dominated the rapid progress. The splendid mental and literary equipment of some of our finest scholars; the fragments of verse and prose of which we catch fleeting glimpses now and then, encourages the hope that from the race will yet come forth the masterpiece which, measured by the literature of the world, shall stamp its author a genius and at the same time elevate the Afro-American in literature."

"I know a little man both ept and ert. An intro-? extro-? No, he's just a vert. Sheveled and couth and kempt, pecunious, ane, His image trudes upon the ceptive brain. When life turns sipid and the mind is traught, The spirit soars as I would sist it ought. Chalantly then, like any gainly goof, My digent self is sertive, choate, loof."

"My mother is English, and as she was the one who read to us, my early world was A .A. Milne, Beatrix Potter, Kenneth Grahame, Lewis Carroll and Roald Dahl. None of them thought it necessary to protect children from darkness. On the contrary, they guided their readers right toward it. This gives one an enormous sense of being respected as a child. Not just of being trusted to handle things as they are, but to be accepted as not entirely good. To be recognized as having darkness within oneself, too. I don’t think I’ve trusted any author since who doesn’t address me with that assumption."

"Painting is an awkward thing to teach except the details of the medium. If you and your master are determined to look at nature and art in two different directions you are sure to stick."

"It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is "soporific." I have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces; but then I am not a rabbit."

"I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense..."

"Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were – Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter."

"Don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."

"This is a Tale about a tail — a tail that belonged to a little red squirrel, and his name was Nutkin."

"Whenever a snow-flake leaves the sky, It turns and turns to say "Good-bye! Good-by, dear cloud, so cool and gray!" Then lightly travels on its way."

"But when a snow-flake, brave and meek, Lights on a rosy maiden's cheek, It starts—"How warm and soft the day!" "'Tis summer!" and it melts away."

"For ever and ever, my darling, yes— Goodness and love are undying; Only the troubles and cares of earth Are winged from the first for flying. Our way we plough In the furrow "now;" But after the tilling and growing the sheaf; Soil for the root, but the sun for the leaf— And God keepeth watch forever."

"Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be; Yet oh, how dear it is to us, this life we live and see!"

"But I believe that God is overhead; And as life is to the living, so death is to the dead."

"She stood amid the morning dew, And sang her earliest measure sweet, Sang as the lark sings,speeding fair, to touch and taste the purer air"

"The Autumn seems to cry for thee, Best lover of the Autumn-days!"

"The tasks are done and the tears are shed. Yesterday’s errors let yesterday cover; Yesterday’s wounds, which smarted and bled, Are healed with the healing that night has shed."

"These are weighty secrets, and we must whisper them."

"Men die but sorrow never dies."

"I loved the Andrew Lang books"

"The windy lights of Autumn flare; I watch the moonlit sails go by; I marvel how men toil and fare, The weary business that they play! Their voyaging is vanity, And fairy gold is all their gain, And all the winds of winter cry, “My Love returns no more again.”"

"Andrew Lang's marvelous Tales of Troy and Greece...fired my imagination as a child, in an unforgettable way."

"If indeed there be a god in heaven."

"Among the various forms of science which are reaching and affecting the new popular tradition, we have reckoned Anthropology. Pleasantly enough, Anthropology has herself but recently emerged from that limbo of the unrecognised in which Psychical Research is pining."

"They hear like ocean on a western beach The surge and thunder of the Odyssey."

"Politicians use statistics in the same way that a drunk uses lamp-posts—for support rather than illumination."

"There’s a joy without canker or cark, There’s a pleasure eternally new, ’T is to gloat on the glaze and the mark Of china that’s ancient and blue."

"Here’s a pot with a cot in a park In a park where the peach-blossoms blew, Where the lovers eloped in the dark, Lived, died and were changed into two Bright birds that eternally flew Through the boughs of the may, as they sang; ’T is a tale was undoubtedly true In the reign of the Emperor Hwang."

"The King is very proud and very handsome; The Queen--now you can quess who that could be (She's a little girl all day, but at night she steals away)? Well -- it's Me!"

"Since ever and ever the world began They danced like a ribbon of flame, They have sung their song through the centuries long, And yet it is never the same. And though you be foolish or though you be wise, With hair of silver or gold, You can never be as young as the fairies are, And never be as old."

"I think mice Are rather nice. Their tails are long, Their faces small, They haven't any Chins at all. Their ears are pink, Their teeth are white. They run about the house at night They nibble things they shouldn't touch, And no one seems to like them much."

"There are fairies at the bottom of our garden! It's not so very, very far away; You pass the gardner's shed and you just keep straight ahead -- I do so hope they've really come to stay."

"Sometimes because I'm sad I do bad things. I can't tell you what they are. They are too bad. And it's not fair on the cat.""

"Sad is anywhere. It comes along and finds you."

"It didn't work out the way it's supposed to."

"There must be candles."

"He wanted to make a mirror. Glass, mercury and a wooden frame- the perfect mirror. But he was no good at it. So he went to the people he knew and asked them for a mirror. All they could give him were bits of old mirror. He took these home, stuck them on a board and hung it up. It's a mirror."

"dear joe, your wild noisy huge brother is dead. I couldn't do what my parents did: bring two boys, four years apart through the maze."

"I think human life is absurd. I think it is completely, utterly absurd. There is this planet and it's this tiny place in the universe and then on this planet are crawling over it these little people who think that their lives are so incredibly important and, you know, an enormous amount of effort is spent killing each other, which just drives me completely nuts when I think about it, and making people poor while other people have whatever they want, and it's utterly absurd."

"It's nice of you to say you'll always remember him. You won't."

"[W]hat possible objections can we have to anyone, anywhere, writing a book for children? After all, it's not terribly difficult. I'll rephrase that: it's difficult to write a brilliant one, but anyone who was once a child should have at least one children's book in them. Anyone who comes anywhere near children ought to be able to write at least one more. And in an ideal world, shouldn't every parent, teacher, grandparent, child-carer have a go?"

"Respect is fatal, isn't it?"

"People are good," he said. "They'll all be good to you. Except one."

"The competition between chunks of capital is getting fiercer, there is the same old same old desperate need to keep wages down, desperate need to substitute machines for labour (but that costs trillions of investment) and no matter how hard you exploit workers, you still need to sell stuff to them, and if their wages are low, they can't buy the stuff. You can force the poorly paid into borrowing money (credit cards, wonga etc) but there comes a point when that causes a credit crisis: someone somewhere says they want some dosh and a bank somewhere says they haven't got the dosh (Northern Rock, last time). Let's remember, none of this is caused by migrants or left social democrats. This is a crisis entirely born from a system that is locked into competition for markets. So, these fervid rows between squadrons of extremely unpleasant individuals are rows between people who deep down know that they can't control this system of running the making and distribution of the things we need. They are just coming up with fantasies on how to stay in power while the next phase veers from crisis to crisis. It is terrible for millions of people in awful insecure, low paid jobs and/or in insecure, lousy housing, or if they are disabled, or for millions trying to migrate their way out of poverty and despair. We should be alarmed when members of the ruling class start pleading with us to take sides with them against the 'elite': one section of the elite calling for us to oppose the elite."

"I mucked about with his hair. His shoes were where he left them. His shoes are where he left them."

"You ask me how it's possible for me to carry on. I wonder if I look like someone who looks like it's possible to carry on."

"Bloody music. I hate the way it infiltrates."