Eeyore Quotes

“I might have known,” said Eeyore. “After all, one can’t complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said ‘Bother!’. The Social Round. Always something going on.”

“Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!” said Piglet, feeling him. Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time.”

“It’s your fault, Eeyore. You’ve never been to see any of us. You just stay here in this one corner of the Forest waiting for the others to come to you. Why don’t you go to THEM sometimes?”

“The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually.”

“They’re funny things, Accidents. You never have them till you’re having them.”

“Don’t blame me if it rains.”

“We can’t all, and some of us don’t.”

“It’s not much of a tail, but I’m sort of attached to it.”

“Wish I could say yes, but I can’t.”

“Sure is a cheerful color. Guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

“Thanks for noticin’ me.”

“After all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow.”

“No Give and Take. No Exchange of Thought. It gets you nowhere, particularly if the other person’s tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.”

“Could you ask your friend to do his exercises somewhere else? I shall be having lunch directly, and don’t want it bounced on just before I begin. A trifling matter, and fussy of me, but we all have our little ways.”

“Hallo, Pooh. Thank you for asking, but I shall be able to use it again in a day or two.” “Use what?” said Pooh. “What we were talking about.” “I wasn’t talking about anything,” said Pooh, looking puzzled. “My mistake again. I thought you were saying how sorry you were about my tail, being all numb, and could you do anything to help?” “No,” said Pooh. “That wasn’t me,” he said. He thought for a little and then suggested helpfully: “Perhaps it was somebody else.” “Well, thank him for me when you see him.”

“I thought,” said Piglet earnestly, “that if Eeyore stood at the bottom of the tree, and if Pooh stood on Eeyore’s back, and if I stood on Pooh’s shoulders -” “And if Eeyore’s back snapped suddenly, then we could all laugh. Ha Ha! Amusing in a quiet way,” said Eeyore, “but not really helpful.” “Well,” said Piglet meekly, “I thought -” “Would it break your back, Eeyore?” asked Pooh, very much surprised. “That’s what would be so interesting, Pooh. Not being quite sure till afterwards.”

“A tail isn’t a tail to them, it’s just a little bit extra at the back.”

“A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference.”

“If it is a good morning, which I doubt.”

“When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there.”

“You don’t always want to be miserable on my birthday, do you?”

“You seem so sad, Eeyore.” “Sad? Why should I be sad? It’s my birthday. The happiest day of the year.”

“And many happy returns to you, Pooh Bear.”

“And how are you?” said Winnie-the-Pooh. Eeyore shook his head from side to side. “Not very how,” he said. “I don’t seem to have felt at all how for a long time.”

“Thank you, Pooh,” answered Eeyore. “You’re a real friend,” said he. “Not like Some,” he said.

“Good morning, Pooh Bear,” said Eeyore gloomily. “If it is a good morning,” he said. “Which I doubt,” said he.

“Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can’t all, and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

“We’re going. Only Don’t Blame Me.”

And then there’s Eeyore. And Eeyore is so miserable anyhow that he wouldn’t mind about this.

“This writing business. Pencils and what-not. Over-rated, if you ask me. Silly stuff. Nothing in it.”

“What I did was nothing. Any of you—except Rabbit and Owl and Kanga—would have done the same. Oh, and Pooh. My remarks do not, of course, apply to Piglet and Roo, because they are too small. Any of you would have done the same.”

First came Christopher Robin and Rabbit, then Piglet and Pooh; then Kanga, with Roo in her pocket, and Owl; then Eeyore; and, at the end, in a long line, all Rabbit’s friends-and-relations. “I didn’t ask them,” explained Rabbit carelessly. “They just came. They always do. They can march at the end, after Eeyore.”

“You mean Piglet. The little fellow with the excited ears. That’s Piglet.”

And then this Bear, Pooh Bear, Winnie-the-Pooh, F.O. P. (Friend of Piglet’s), R.C. (Rabbit’s Companion), P.D. (Pole Discoverer), E.C. and T.F. (Eeyore’s Comforter and Tail-finder)—in fact, Pooh himself—said something so clever that Christopher Robin could only look at him with mouth open and eyes staring, wondering if this was really the Bear of Very Little Brain whom he had known and loved so long.

“After all, one can’t complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said ‘Bother!’ The Social Round. Always something going on.”

The Old Grey Donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, “Why?” and sometimes he thought, “Wherefore?” and sometimes he thought, “Inasmuch as which?“—and sometimes he didn’t quite know what he was thinking about.

“Many happy returns of the day,” called out Pooh, forgetting that he had said it already. “Thank you, Pooh, I’m having them,” said Eeyore gloomily.

“Eeyore,” said Owl, “Christopher Robin is giving a party.” “Very interesting,” said Eeyore. “I suppose they will be sending me down the odd bits which got trodden on. Kind and Thoughtful. Not at all, don’t mention it.”

“That Accounts for a Good Deal,” said Eeyore gloomily. “It Explains Everything. No Wonder.”

Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and looked at himself in the water. “Pathetic,” he said. “That’s what it is. Pathetic.” He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. Then he looked at himself in the water again. “As I thought,” he said. “No better from this side. But nobody minds. Nobody cares. Pathetic, that’s what it is.”

“Have you all got something?” asked Christopher Robin with his mouth full. “All except me,” said Eeyore. “As Usual.” He looked round at them in his melancholy way. “I suppose none of you are sitting on a thistle by any chance?” “I believe I am,” said Pooh. “Ow!” He got up, and looked behind him. “Yes, I was. I thought so.” “Thank you, Pooh. If you’ve quite finished with it.” He moved across to Pooh’s place, and began to eat.

“My tail’s getting cold. I don’t want to mention it, but I just mention it. I don’t want to complain but there it is. My tail’s cold.”

“Hallo, Eeyore!” said Pooh. “This is Tigger.” “What is?” said Eeyore. “This,” explained Pooh and Piglet together, and Tigger smiled his happiest smile and said nothing.

Eeyore walked all round Tigger one way, and then turned and walked all round him the other way. “What did you say it was?” he asked. “Tigger.” “Ah!” said Eeyore. “He’s just come,” explained Piglet. “Ah!” said Eeyore again. He thought for a long time and then said: “When is he going?”

“Do you see, Pooh? Do you see, Piglet? Brains first and then Hard Work. Look at it! That’s the way to build a house,” said Eeyore proudly.

“Hallo, Eeyore,” he said, “what are you looking for?” “Small, of course,” said Eeyore. “Haven’t you any brain?” “Oh, but didn’t I tell you?” said Rabbit. “Small was found two days ago.” There was a moment’s silence. “Ha-ha,” said Eeyore bitterly. “Merriment and what-not. Don’t apologize. It’s just what would happen.”

“Hallo, Eeyore,” said Christopher Robin, as he opened the door and came out. “How are you?” “It’s snowing still,” said Eeyore gloomily. “So it is.” “And freezing.” “Is it?” “Yes,” said Eeyore. “However,” he said, brightening up a little, “we haven’t had an earthquake lately.”

“A little patch I was keeping for my birthday,” he said; “but, after all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow. Help yourself, Tigger.”

“I don’t know how it is, Christopher Robin, but what with all this snow and one thing and another, not to mention icicles and such-like, it isn’t so Hot in my field about three o’clock in the morning as some people think it is. It isn’t Close, if you know what I mean—not so as to be uncomfortable. It isn’t Stuffy. In fact, Christopher Robin,” he went on in a loud whisper, “quite-between-ourselves-and-don’t-tell-anybody, it’s Cold.”

They haven’t got Brains, any of them, only grey fluff that’s blown into their heads by mistake, and they don’t Think, but if it goes on snowing for another six weeks or so, one of them will begin to say to himself: ‘Eeyore can’t be so very much too Hot about three o’clock in the morning.’

“There!” said Eeyore. “Not a stick of it left! Of course, I’ve still got all this snow to do what I like with. One mustn’t complain.”

“Hallo, Eeyore.” “Same to you, Pooh Bear, and twice on Thursdays,” said Eeyore gloomily.

“Could you ask your friend to do his exercises somewhere else? I shall be having lunch directly, and don’t want it bounced on just before I begin. A trifling matter, and fussy of me, but we all have our little ways.”

“Oh, there you are, Tigger!” said Christopher Robin. “I knew you’d be somewhere.” “I’ve been finding things in the Forest,” said Tigger importantly. “I’ve found a pooh and a piglet and an eeyore, but I can’t find any breakfast.”

Pooh explained to Eeyore that Tigger was a great friend of Christopher Robin’s, who had come to stay in the Forest, and Piglet explained to Tigger that he mustn’t mind what Eeyore said because he was always gloomy; and Eeyore explained to Piglet that, on the contrary, he was feeling particularly cheerful this morning; and Tigger explained to anybody who was listening that he hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

“I shouldn’t be surprised if it hailed a good deal tomorrow,” Eeyore was saying. “Blizzards and what-not. Being fine today doesn’t Mean Anything. It has no sig—what’s that word? Well, it has none of that. It’s just a small piece of weather.”

“I’m not saying there won’t be an Accident now, mind you. They’re funny things, Accidents. You never have them till you’re having them.”

“Getting Tigger down,” said Eeyore, “and Not hurting anybody. Keep those two ideas in your head, Piglet, and you’ll be all right.”

“I thought,” said Piglet earnestly, “that if Eeyore stood at the bottom of the tree, and if Pooh stood on Eeyore’s back, and if I stood on Pooh’s shoulders——” “And if Eeyore’s back snapped suddenly, then we could all laugh. Ha ha! Amusing in a quiet way,” said Eeyore, “but not really helpful.” “Well,” said Piglet meekly, “I thought——” “Would it break your back, Eeyore?” asked Pooh, very much surprised. “That’s what would be so interesting, Pooh. Not being quite sure till afterwards.”

“I’m telling you. People come and go in this Forest, and they say, ‘It’s only Eeyore, so it doesn’t count.’ They walk to and fro saying ‘Ha ha!’ But do they know anything about A? They don’t. It’s just three sticks to them. But to the Educated—mark this, little Piglet—to the Educated, not meaning Poohs and Piglets, it’s a great and glorious A. Not,” he added, “just something that anybody can come and breathe on.”

Rabbit came up importantly, nodded to Piglet, and said, “Ah, Eeyore,” in the voice of one who would be saying “Good-bye” in about two more minutes.

“What does Christopher Robin do in the mornings? He learns. He becomes Educated. He instigorates—I think that is the word he mentioned, but I may be referring to something else—he instigorates Knowledge. In my small way I also, if I have the word right, am—am doing what he does.”

Eeyore looked at his sticks and then he looked at Piglet. “What did Rabbit say it was?” he asked. “An A,” said Piglet. “Did you tell him?” “No, Eeyore, I didn’t. I expect he just knew.” “He knew? You mean this A thing is a thing Rabbit knew?” “Yes, Eeyore. He’s clever, Rabbit is.”

“Clever!” said Eeyore scornfully, putting a foot heavily on his three sticks. “Education!” said Eeyore bitterly, jumping on his six sticks. “What is Learning?” asked Eeyore as he kicked his twelve sticks into the air. ”

“I think——” began Piglet nervously. “Don’t,” said Eeyore.

“Do you know what A means, little Piglet?” “No, Eeyore, I don’t.” “It means Learning, it means Education, it means all the things that you and Pooh haven’t got. That’s what A means.”

“We just came to see you,” said Piglet. “And to see how your house was. Look, Pooh, it’s still standing!” “I know,” said Eeyore. “Very odd. Somebody ought to have come down and pushed it over.” “We wondered whether the wind would blow it down,” said Pooh. “Ah, that’s why nobody’s bothered, I suppose. I thought perhaps they’d forgotten.”

“Now then, Eeyore,” he said. “Don’t Bustle me,” said Eeyore, getting up slowly. “Don’t now-then me.”

“All the Poetry in the Forest has been written by Pooh, a Bear with a Pleasing Manner but a Positively Startling Lack of Brain.

“If anybody wants to clap,” said Eeyore when he had read this, “now is the time to do it.” They all clapped. “Thank you,” said Eeyore. “Unexpected and gratifying, if a little lacking in Smack.”

“It’s much better than mine,” said Pooh admiringly, and he really thought it was. “Well,” explained Eeyore modestly, “it was meant to be.”

“Eeyore, what are you doing there?” said Rabbit. “I’ll give you three guesses, Rabbit. Digging holes in the ground? Wrong. Leaping from branch to branch of a young oak tree? Wrong. Waiting for somebody to help me out of the river? Right. Give Rabbit time, and he’ll always get the answer.”

“That’s right, Eeyore. Drop in on any of us at any time, when you feel like it.” “Thank-you, Rabbit. And if anybody says in a Loud Voice ‘Bother, it’s Eeyore,’ I can drop out again.”

“But, Eeyore,” said Pooh in distress, “what can we—I mean, how shall we—do you think if we——” “Yes,” said Eeyore. “One of those would be just the thing. Thank you, Pooh.”

“I’ve got a sort of idea,” said Pooh at last, “but I don’t suppose it’s a very good one.” “I don’t suppose it is either,” said Eeyore.