Before bedtime the children wanted to play at the fall of Rome, which was their new favorite game. They joined hands and spun and declined and fell until they were dizzy, and then they rose and did it again.

There is no harm in carrying a borrowed umbrella, but toothbrushes and opinions should always be one’s own.

Maybe in the motto grotto?” Alexander suggested. No doubt he was still thinking of the Spooky Grotto of Tygers. Beowulf shook his head. “Not even a spotto of a motto.” “Motto, notto,” Cassiopeia concluded sadly.

True optimism, as Agatha Swanburne defined it, is the habit of expecting happy endings in a way that keeps one cheerfully working to make them come true.

If you want fresh ideas in your head, get some fresh mud on your boots.

Do not worry, Lumawoo.” Beowulf sniffed deeply. “We will follow the smell of chickens.” “He means baby dodos,” Cassiopeia corrected.

Many are happy to give advice; few are happy to take it.

Penelope frowned. “I thought you had a headache?” “In my leg I do,” Beowulf explained. “From chicken pox.” He hopped on his one good leg and made chicken noises. “Buck-buck, buck-buck!

There is a charming little bakery down the street, called the Charming Little Bakery.

The difference between a dream and a plan is a to-do list.