“You may be a mighty king, but your sitting in oobleck up to your chin. And so is everyone else in you land. And if you won’t even say you’re sorry, you’re no sort of a king at all!”
“Maybe there was, and maybe there wasn’t. But they say that as soon as the old King spoke them, the sun began to shine and fight its way through the storm. They say that the falling oobleck blobs grew smaller and smaller and smaller. ”
“Won’t look like rain. Won’t look like snow. Won’t look like fog. That’s all we know. We just can’t tell you any more. We’ve never made oobleck before.”
“And the moment the King spoke those words, something happened...Maybe there was something magic in those simple words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Maybe there was something magic in those simple words, ‘It’s all my fault.‘”