When late morning rolls around and you're feeling a bit out of sorts, don't worry; you're probably just a little eleven o'clockish.
People who don't think probably don't have brains; rather, they have grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake.
Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.
You can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.
Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.
It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"
You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.
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