No Sensible Author Wants Anything But Praise.

In The Quiet Hours When We Are Alone And There Is Nobody To Tell Us What Fine Fellows We Are, We Come Sometimes Upon A Moment In Which We Wonder, Not How Much Money We Are Earning, Nor How Famous We Have Become, But What Good We Are Doing.

But Now I Am Six. And I'm Clever As Clever. And Now I Think I'll Stay Six Now Forever And Ever.

So He Started To Climb Out Of The Hole. He Pulled With His Front Paws, And Pushed With His Back Paws, And In A Little While His Nose Was In The Open Again ... And Then His Ears ... And Then His Front Paws ... And Then His Shoulders ... And Then-'oh, Help!' Said Pooh, 'i'd Better Go Back,' 'oh Bother!' Said Pooh, 'i Shall Have To Go On.' 'i Can't Do Either!' Said Pooh, 'oh Help And Bother!

If You Were A Bird, And Lived On High, You'd Lean On The Wind When The Wind Came By, You'd Say To The Wind When It Took You Away: 'that's Where I Wanted To Go Today!

Piglet: "how Do You Spell 'love'?" Winnie The Pooh: "you Don't Spell It...you Feel It."