Well, First Of All," Said The Bfg,

Writing Is Mainly Perspiration, Not Inspiration.

You Mean You Live Down Here?' Matilda Asked. 'i Do', Miss Honey Replied, But She Said No More. Matilda Had Never Once Stopped To Think About Where Miss Honey Might Be Living. She Had Always Regarded Her Purely As A Teacher, A Person Who Turned Up Out Of Nowhere And Taught At School And Then Went Away Again.

Those Who Don't Believe In Magic Will Never Find It.

It's A Funny Thing About Mothers And Fathers. Even When Their Own Child Is The Most Disgusting Little Blister You Could Ever Imagine, They Still Think That He Or She Is Wonderful.

Now That I Am Alone, I Don't Have To Hide It; I Don't Have To Hide Anything Any Longer. I Can Let My Face Go Because No One Can See Me; Because There's Twenty-one Thousand Feet Between Me And Them... No, I Don't Have To Press My Teeth Together Or Tighten The Muscles Of My Jaw.