‎'all We Need Is A Book,' Roared

‎'all We Need Is A Book,' Roared Leslie; 'don't Panic, Hit 'em With A Book.

Why Keep In Touch With Them? That's What I Want To Know,' Asked Larry Despairingly. 'what Satisfaction Does It Give You? They're All Either Fossilized Or Mental.' 'indeed, They're Not Mental,' Said Mother Indignantly. 'nonsense, Mother... Look At Aunt Bertha, Keeping Flocks Of Imaginary Cats... And There's Great-uncle Patrick, Who Wanders About Nude And Tells Complete Strangers How He Killed Whales With A Penknife...they're All Bats.

I Said I 'liked' Being Half-educated; You Were So Much More 'surprised' At Everything When You Were Ignorant.

Among The Myrtles The Mantids Moved, Lightly, Carefully, Swaying Slightly, The Quintessence Of Evil. They Were Lank And Green, With Chinless Faces And Monstrous Globular Eyes, Frosty Gold, With An Expression Of Intense, Predatory Madness In Them. The Crooked Arms, With Their Fringes Of Sharp Teeth, Would Be Raised In Mock Supplication To The Insect World, So Humble, So Fervent, Trembling Slightly When A Butterfly Flew Too Close.

Until We Consider Animal Life To Be Worthy Of The Consideration And Reverence We Bestow Upon Old Books And Pictures And Historic Monuments, There Will Always Be The Animal Refugee Living A Precarious Life On The Edge Of Extermination, Dependent For Existence On The Charity Of A Few Human Beings.