"Piglet had got up early that morning to pick himself a bunch of violets;
and when he had picked them and put them in a pot in the middle of his house,
it suddenly came over him that nobody had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets,
and the more he thought of this, the more he thought how sad it was to be an Animal
who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him.
So he hurried out again, saying to himself, "Eeyore, Violets," and then "Violets, Eeyore,"
in case he forgot, because it was that sort of day,
and he picked a large bunch and trotted along, smelling them, and feeling very happy,
until he came to the place where Eeyore was.
- Chapter Five, The House at Pooh Corner
Readings not suitable for a Bear of Very Little Brain
Immortality (Milan Kundera)
- fictional, yet somehow reaching into everyday life
(but not into Pooh's fantasy life in the Woods :)
Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
- Dark and realistic, superb read.
Ivanhoe (Walter Scott)
- Classic chivalry and Robin Hood
Emma (Jane Austen)
- Too bright and cheery for my liking.
