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“Wtedy znów Krzyś, który, z podbródkiem opartym na dłoni, dalej patrzył na świat, zawołał nagle: - Puchatku! - Co? - rzekł Puchatek. - A kiedy ja... Puchatku... kiedy ja... - Co, Krzysiu? - Kiedy już przestanę nic nie robić... - Już zupełnie? - No, w każdym razie nie tak bardzo... Puchatek czekał na dalszy ciąg, lecz Krzyś zamilkł znowu. - Co, Krzysiu? Powiedz! - rzekł Puchatek. - Powiedz, Puchatku, kiedy ja już... rozumiesz... kiedy ja już przestanę nic nie robić, czy będziesz tu czasami przychodził? - Ja? - Tak, Puchatku. - A czy ty też tu będziesz? - Będę, Puchatku, będę naprawdę, przyrzekam ci. - To dobrze - rzekł Puchatek - Puchatku, przyrzeknij mi, że nigdy o mnie nie zapomnisz. Nawet kiedy będę miał sto lat. Puchatek pomyślał troszkę. - A ile lat ja wtedy będę miał? - zapytał. - Dziewięćdziesiąt dziewięć. Puchatek kiwnąłłebkiem. - Przyrzekam - odpowiedział. Z oczyma ciągle zwróconymi na świat Krzyś wyciągnął rękę i poszukałłapki Puchatka. - Puchatku - rzekł Krzyś poważnie - jeśli ja... jeśli ja już nie będę... - tu urwał i zaczął znowu - ty zrozumiesz, prawda? - Co zrozumiem? - Ach, nic! - zaśmiał się Krzyś i zerwał się na nogi. - Chodźmy! - Dokąd? - spytał Puchatek. - Wszystko jedno dokąd - rzekł Krzyś. * * * I poszli, trzymając się za ręce. I dokądkolwiek pójdą i cokolwiek im się zdarzy po drodze, mały chłopczyk i jego Miś będą zawsze bawić się wesoło ze sobą w tym Zaczarowanym Miejscu na skraju Lasu.”

“Sad? Why should I be sad? It’s my birthday. The appiest day of the year.’ ‘Your birthday?’ said Pooh in great surprise. ‘Of course it is. Can’t you see? Look at all the presents I have had.’ He waved a foot from side to side. ‘Look at the birthday cake. Candles and pink sugar.’ Pooh looked - first to the right and then to the left. ‘Presents?’ said Pooh. ‘Birthday cake?’ said Pooh. ‘Where?’ ‘Can’t you see them?’ ‘No,’ said Pooh. ‘Neither can I,’ said Eeyore. ‘Joke,’ he explained. ‘Ha ha!”

“Well, I've got an idea," said Rabbit, "and here it is. We take Tigger for a long explore, somewhere where he's never been, and we lose him there, and next morning we find him again, and--mark my words--he'll be a different Tigger altogether." "Why?" said Pooh. "Because he'll be a Humble Tigger. Because he'll be a Sad Tigger, a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see-you Tigger. That's why." "Will he be glad to see me and Piglet, too?" "Of course." "That's good," said Pooh. "I should hate him to go on being Sad," said Piglet doubtfully. "Tiggers never go on being Sad," explained Rabbit.”

“..."But what I like doing best is Nothing." "How do you do Nothing?" asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time. "Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, What are you going to do Christopher Robin, and you say, Oh, nothing, and you go and do it." "Oh, I see," said Pooh. "This is a nothing sort of thing that we're doing right now." "Oh, I see," said Pooh again. "It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear and not bothering." "Oh!" said Pooh.”

“Yin day, when Christopher Robin and Winnie-the-Pooh and Wee Grumphie were aw haein a crack thegither, Christopher Robin feenished whit he had in his mooth and said lichtsomely: 'I saw a Huffalamp the-day, Wee Grumphie.' 'Whit wis it daein?' spiered Wee Grumphie. 'Jist lampin alang', said Christopher Robin. 'I dinna think it saw me.' 'I saw yin wance', said Wee Grumphie. 'At least, I think it wis a Huffalamp. But mibbe it wisna.' 'Sae did I', said Pooh, wunnerin whit like a Huffalamp wis. 'Ye dinna see them that aften', said Christopher Robin in an affhaund wey. 'No noo', said Wee Grumphie. 'No at this time o the year', said Pooh.”

“One of the difficulties of thinking clearly about anything is that it is almost impossible not to form our ideas in words which have some previous association for us; with the result that our thought is already shaped along certain lines before we have begun to follow it out. Again, a word may have various meanings, and our use of it in one sense may deceive our readers (or even ourselves) into supposing that we were using it in some other sense.”

“Vespers Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers. God bless Mummy. I know that's right. Wasn't it fun in the bath tonight? The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot. Oh! God bless Daddy -- I quite forgot. If I open my fingers a little bit more, I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door. It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood. Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good. Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed, And pull the hood right over my head, And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small, And nobody knows that I'm there at all. Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day. And what was the other I had to say? I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be? Oh! Now I remember. God bless Me. Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed. Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.”

“Lines and Squares Whenever I walk in a London street, I'm ever so careful to watch my feet; And I keep in the squares, And the masses of bears, Who wait at the corners all ready to eat The sillies who tread on the lines of the street, Go back to their lairs, And I say to them, "Bears, Just look how I'm walking in all of the squares!" And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine, As soon as he's silly and steps on a line." And some of the bigger bears try to pretend That they came round the corner to look for a friend; And they try to pretend that nobody cares Whether you walk on the lines or squares. But only the sillies believe their talk; It's ever so portant how you walk. And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears, Just watch me walking in all the squares!”

“The word "lesson" came back to Pooh as one he had heard before somewhere. "There's a thing called Twy-stymes," he said. "Christopher Robin tried to teach it to me once, but it didn't." "What didn't?" said Rabbit. "Didn't what?" said Piglet. Pooh shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It just didn't. What are we talking about?" "Pooh," said Piglet reproachfully, "haven't you been listening to what Rabbit was saying?" "I listened, but I had a small piece of fluff in my ear. Could you say it again, please, Rabbit?”

“Then, suddenly again, Christopher Robin, who was still looking at the world, with his chin in his hand, called out "Pooh!" "Yes?" said Pooh. "When I'm--when--Pooh!" "Yes, Christopher Robin?" "I'm not going to do Nothing any more." "Never again?" "Well, not so much. They don't let you." Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again. "Yes, Christopher Robin?" said Pooh helpfully. "Pooh, when I'm--you know--when I'm not doing Nothing, will you come up here sometimes?" "Just me?" "Yes, Pooh." "Will you be here too?" "Yes Pooh, I will be really. I promise I will be Pooh." "That's good," said Pooh. "Pooh, promise you won't forget about me, ever. Not even when I'm a hundred." Pooh thought for a little. "How old shall I be then?" "Ninety-nine." Pooh nodded. "I promise," he said. Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put out a hand and felt Pooh's paw. "Pooh," said Christopher Robin earnestly, "if I--if I'm not quite--" he stopped and tried again-- "Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won't you?" "Understand what?" "Oh, nothing." He laughed and jumped to his feet. "Come on!" "Where?" said Pooh. "Anywhere." said Christopher Robin. So, they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”