Shel Silverstein Quotes

I know a way to stay friends forever, There’s really nothing to it, I tell you what to do, And you do it.

I will not play at tug o’ war. I’d rather play at hug o’ war, Where everyone hugs Instead of tugs, Where everyone giggles And rolls on the rug, Where everyone kisses, And everyone grins, And everyone cuddles, And everyone wins.

“It’s amazing the difference A bit of sky can make.”

If you are a dreamer, come in, If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer... If you’re a pretender come sit by my fire For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!

Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child, Listen to the DON’TS Listen to the SHOULDN’TS The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS Listen to the NEVER HAVES Then listen close to me— Anything can happen, child, ANYTHING can be.

Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy.

How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live ’em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give ’em.

There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, So just give me a happy middle And a very happy start

If there is a book you want to read but isn’t written yet, write it

…Just ’cause somethin’ ain’t been done Don’t mean it can’t be did…

Tell me I’m clever, Tell me I’m kind, Tell me I’m talented, Tell me I’m cute, Tell me I’m sensitive, Graceful and Wise Tell me I’m perfect. But tell me the TRUTH.

“This boat that we just built is just fine— And don’t try to tell us it’s not. The sides and the back are divine— It’s the bottom I guess we forgot. . . .”

If the track is tough and the hill is rough, THINKING you can just ain’t enough!

“Oh, if you’re a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you’re a bird, be an early early bird— But if you’re a worm, sleep late.”

“But all the magic I have known I’ve had to make myself.”

“In a world of apples and kisses and shoes He wasted his wishes on wishing.”

“If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school. The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.”

Underneath my outside face, There’s a face that none can see. A little less smiley, A little less sure, But a whole lot more like me.

Everything isn’t everything

Anything is possible. Anything can be.

“A tree house, a free house, A secret you and me house, A high up in the leafy branches Cozy as can be house. A street house, a neat house, Be sure to wipe your feet house Is not my kind of house at all— Let’s go live in a tree house.”

And he didn’t really know where he was going, but he did know he was going somewhere, because you really have to go somewhere, don’t you?

Talked my head off Worked my tail off Cried my eyes out Walked my feet off Sang my heart out So you see, There’s really not much left of me.

Never explain what you do. It speaks for itself. You only muddle it by talking about it.

To me, freedom entitles you to do something, not to not do something.

No teacher, preacher, parent, friend or wise man can decide what’s right for you – just listen to The voice that speaks inside.

“I want a boat that will take me far away from here.”

“Then you can sail away . . . and be happy.”

“I wish that I could give you something . . . but I have nothing left.”

“I am too old and sad to play.”

“And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and play king of the forest.”

“He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples.”

“And they would play hide and go seek and when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.”

″‘I am too big to climb and play,’ said the boy. ‘I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?‘”

“Then you will have money and you will be happy.”

“And the tree was happy . . .”

″‘Come, Boy,’ she whispered, ‘come and play.‘”

“And the boy loved the tree . . . very much. And the tree was happy.”

“I don’t need very much now.”

″You may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy.”

My skin is kind of sort of brownish Pinkish yellowish white. My eyes are greyish blueish green, But I’m told they look orange in the night. My hair is reddish blondish brown, But it’s silver when its wet, And all the colors I am inside Have not been invented yet.

I’ll swing By my ankles, She’ll cling To your knees As you hang By your nose From a high-up Trapeze. But just one thing, please, As we float through the breeze— Don’t sneeze.”

“She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME And she grew so tall, She ate from a plate called TASTE ME And down she shrank so small. And so she changed, while other folks Never tried nothin’ at all.”

“There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.”

“Sandra’s seen a leprechaun, Eddie touched a troll, Laurie danced with witches once, Charlie found some goblins’ gold. Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf, But all the magic I have known I’ve had to make myself.”

“How many slams in an old screen door? Depends how loud you shut it. How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it. How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live ‘em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give ‘em.”

“He wasted his wishes on wishing.”

“So I’m all of love that could make it today.”

“And all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.”

Are wild strawberries really wild? Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child? Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam? Could they ever relax in a steam-heated home? Can they be trained to not growl at the guests? Will a litterbox work or would they make a mess? Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows, Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows, Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse, Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house, And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly Can you ever feel that you trust them completely? Or should we make a pet out of something less scary, Like the Domestic Prune or the Imported Cherry, Anyhow, you’ve been warned and I will not be blamed If your Wild Strawberries cannot be tamed.

“Ricky was ‘L’ but he’s home with the flu, Lizzie, our ‘O,’ had some homework to do, Mitchell, ‘E’ prob’ly got lost on the way, So I’m all of the love that could make it today.”

“Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understood each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings, And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed. Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets, And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow, Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . . How did it go? How did it go?”

“And here we see the invisible boy In his lovely invisible house, Feeding a piece of invisible cheese To a little invisible mouse. Oh, what a beautiful picture to see! Will you draw an invisible picture for me?”