Gone Out. Backson. Busy Backson.

The Things That Make Me Different Are The Things That Make Me.

But, Of Course, It Isn't Really Good-bye, Because The Forest Will Always Be There... And Anybody Who Is Friendly With Bears Can Find It.

If The English Language Had Been Properly Organized ... Then There Would Be A Word Which Meant Both 'he' And 'she', And I Could Write, 'if John Or Mary Comes Heesh Will Want To Play Tennis', Which Would Save A Lot Of Trouble.

I Have Been Foolish And Deluded, And I Am A Bear Of No Brain At All.

But [pooh] Couldn't Sleep. The More He Tried To Sleep The More He Couldn't. He Tried Counting Sheep, Which Is Sometimes A Good Way Of Getting To Sleep, And, As That Was No Good, He Tried Counting Heffalumps. And That Was Worse. Because Every Heffalump That He Counted Was Making Straight For A Pot Of Pooh's Honey, And Eating It All. For Some Minutes He Lay There Miserably, But When The Five Hundred And Eighty-seventh Heffalump Was Licking Its Jaws, And Saying To Itself, "very Good Honey This, I Don't Know When I've Tasted Better," Pooh Could Bear It No Longer.