“Choices will continually be necessary and -- let us not forget -- possible. Obedience to God is always possible. It is a deadly error to fall into the notion that when feelings are extremely strong we can do nothing but act on them.”
″‘Whoever she is,’ Hall went on, ‘she’ll push me. And I’ll fall. Hundreds of feet.’ [...]
‘Mr. Hall, this is my receptionist, Miss Thomas.’
‘No,’ Hall cried. ‘It’s her. It is. And I know who she is now, God save me! I know who she is!‘”
“That’s mine!” squeaked the Squirrel. “Stirring is my job. Give that back!” “You’re much too small.” snapped the Cat. “We’ll cook the way we always have.” But the Duck held on tight... until the Squirrel tugged with all his might... and -WHOOPS!- the spoon spun through the air, and bopped the Cat on the head. Then there was trouble, a horrible squabble, a row, a racket, a rumpus in the old white cabin.
“A wind came. It blew across the land. The pile of leaves that Frog had raked for Toad blew everywhere. The pile of leaves that Toad raked for Frog blew everywhere.”
“I hope you sit on a tack, I said to Paul. I hope the next time you get a double-decker strawberry ice-cream cone the ice cream part falls off the cone part and lands in Australia.”
“But when Mrs. Westvessel announced one day in the fall that the class would begin writing poetry, Anastasia was the happiest she had ever been in school. Somewhere, off in a place beyond her own thoughts, Anastasia could hear Mrs. Westvessel’s voice. She was reading some poems to the class; she was talking about poetry and how it was made.”
“One is the Springmouse who turns on the showers. Then comes the Summer who paints in the flowers. The Fallmouse is next with the walnuts and wheat. And Winter is last…with little cold feet.”
“The pig mucked about. The dog teased the cat. The cat chased the rabbit. The rabbit hopped. The children squabbled. The boat tipped…and into the water they fell.”
“Hush-a-bye baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall;
Down will come baby, bough, cradle and all.
Hush-a-bye baby, Daddy is near;
Mammy’s a lady, and that’s very clear.”
“As the Little House settled down on her new foundation, she smiled happily. Once again she could watch the sun and moon and stars. Once again she could watch Spring and Summer and Fall and Winter come and go.”
‘She loved both spring and fall. At the turning of the year things seemed to stir in her, that were lost sight of in the commonplace stretches of winter and summer.”
“Autumn Fires
In the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The gay smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!”