Forever Isn't Long At All,

Hallo, Rabbit,” He Said, “is That You?” "let’s Pretend It Isn’t,” Said Rabbit, “and See What Happens.

Christopher Robin Was Sitting Outside His Door, Putting On His Big Boots. As Soon As He Saw The Big Boots, Pooh Knew That An Adventure Was Going To Happen, And He Brushed The Honey Off His Nose With The Back Of His Paw, And Spruced Himself Up As Well As He Could, So As To Look Ready For Anything.

Ideas May Drift Into Other Minds, But They Do Not Drift My Way. I Have To Go And Fetch Them. I Know No Work Manual Or Mental To Equal The Appalling Heart-breaking Anguish Of Fetching An Idea From Nowhere.

It Is Hard To Be Brave, When You're Only A Very Small Animal.

By The Time It Came To The Edge Of The Forest, The Stream Had Grown Up, So That It Was Almost A River, And, Being Grown-up, It Did Not Run And Jump And Sparkle Along As It Used To Do When It Was Younger, But Moved More Slowly. For It Knew Now Where It Was Going, And It Said To Itself, “there Is No Hurry. We Shall Get There Some Day.” But All The Little Streams Higher Up In The Forest Went This Way And That, Quickly, Eagerly, Having So Much To Find Out Before It Was Too Late.