All Outward Forms Of Religion Are Almost

I Fear That We Shall Be Obliged To Leave This Pudding

I Am Worn To A Raveling.

There Is Something Delicious About Writing The First Words Of A Story. You Never Quite Know Where They'll Take You.

Don't Go Into Mr. Mcgregor's Garden: Your Father Had An Accident There; He Was Put In A Pie By Mrs. Mcgregor.

Thank God I Have The Seeing Eye, That Is To Say, As I Lie In Bed I Can Walk Step By Step On The Fells And Rough Land Seeing Every Stone And Flower And Patch Of Bog And Cotton Pass Where My Old Legs Will Never Take Me Again.