It Is A Terrible Thing For An

Think It Over, Think It Under.

What I Say Is That, If A Man Really Likes Potatoes, He Must Be A Pretty Decent Sort Of Fellow.

What I Like Doing Best Is Nothing.

Chess Has This In Common With Making Poetry; That The Desire For It Comes Upon The Amateur In Gusts.

When You Wake Up In The Morning, Pooh," Said Piglet At Last, "what's The First Thing You Say To Yourself?" "what's For Breakfast?" Said Pooh. "what Do You Say, Piglet?" "i Say, I Wonder What's Going To Happen Exciting Today?" Said Piglet. Pooh Nodded Thoughtfully. "it's The Same Thing," He Said.