One Does Not Argue About The Wind

Now Then, Pooh," Said Christopher Robin, "where's Your Boat?" "i Ought To Say," Explained Pooh As They Walked Down To The Shore Of The Island, "that It Isn't Just An Ordinary Sort Of Boat. Sometimes It's A Boat, And Sometimes It's More Of An Accident. It All Depends." "depends On What?" "on Whether I'm On The Top Of It Or Underneath It.

Hallo, Eeyore." "same To You, Pooh Bear, And Twice On Thursdays," Said Eeyore Gloomily. Before Pooh Could Say: 'why Thursdays?' Christopher Robin Began To Explain The Sad Story Of Eeyore's Lost House.

So - Here I Am In The Dark Alone, There's Nobody Here To See; I Think To Myself, I Play To Myself, And Nobody Knows What I Say To Myself; Here I Am In The Dark Alone, What Is It Going To Be? I Can Think Whatever I Like To Think, I Can Play Whatever I Like To Play, I Can Laugh Whatever I Like To Laugh, There's Nobody Here But Me.

Be Sure To Put The Knocker Fairly Low On Your Door In Case A Very Small Friend Drops By.

It Was A Drowsy Summer Afternoon, And The Forest Was Full Of Gentle Sounds, Which All Seemed To Be Saying To Pooh, 'don't Listen To Rabbit, Listen To Me.' So He Got In A Comfortable Position For Not Listening To Rabbit.