“Kellyanne opened the car door and crawled into my bedroom. Her face was puffy and pale and fuzzed-over. She just came in and said: Ashmol, Pobby and Dingan are maybe-dead. That s how she said it.”
“No se piensa en nada; las horas pasan. Uno se pasea inmovil por paises que cree ver, y su pensamiento, enlazandose a la ficcion, se recrea en los detalles o sigue el hilo de las aventuras. Se identifica con los personajes; parece que somos nosotros mismos los que participamos bajo sus pieles.”
“...it seemed to me that the entire world was like a palace with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another. We were able to pass from one room to the next only by exercising out memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised these capacities, and forever remained in the same room”
“A book is a magic carpet that flies you off somewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?”
“The imaginative is produced by the human mind as it tries to respond to something greater than itself, struggling to find images adequate to the reality.”
“Fantasy leaves imaginations larger than it finds them.”
“We may see a Creature with forty-nine heads Who lives in the desolate snow, And whenever he catches a cold (which he dreads) He has forty-nine noses to blow. We may see the venomous Pink-Spotted Scrunch Who can chew up a man with one bite. It likes to eat five of them roasted for lunch And eighteen for its supper at night. We may see a Dragon, and nobody knows That we won t see a Unicorn there. We may see a terrible Monster with toes Growing out of the tufts of his hair. We may see the sweet little Biddy-Bright Hen So playful, so kind and well-bred; And such beautiful eggs! You just boil them and then They explode and they blow off your head. A Gnu and a Gnocerous surely you ll see And that gnormous and gnorrible Gnat Whose sting when it stings you goes in at the knee And comes out through the top of your hat. We may even get lost and be frozen by frost. We may die in an earthquake or tremor. Or nastier still, we may even be tossed On the horns of a furious Dilemma. But who cares! Let us go from this horrible hill! Let us roll! Let us bowl! Let us plunge! Let s go rolling and bowling and spinning until We re away from old Spiker and Sponge!”