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Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

Kenneth Grahame

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Kenneth Grahame
Age: 73 †
Born: 1859
Born: March 8
Died: 1932
Died: July 6
Film Writer
Novelist
Writer
Edinburgh
Scotland
Littles
Spring
Little
Divine
Even
Dark
Moving
Penetrating
House
Lowly
Spirit
Discontent
Around
Longing
Earth
Air

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It is the restrictions placed on vice by our social code which makes its pursuit so peculiarly agreeable.
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Brain against brute force - and brain came out on the top - as its bound to do.
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A careful inspection showed them that, even if they succeeded in righting it by themselves, the cart would travel no longer. The axles were in a hopeless state, and the missing wheel was shattered into pieces.
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Independence is all very well, but we animals never allow our friends to make fools of themselves beyond a certain limit and that limit you've reached
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The River... It's my world, and I don't want any other. What it hasn't got is not worth having, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we've had together!
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Weasels--and stoats--and foxes--and so on. They're all right in a way--I'm very good friends with them--pass the time of day when we meet, and all that--but they break out sometimes, there's no denying it, and then--well, you can't really trust them, and that's the fact.
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We shall creep out quietly into the butler's pantry-- cried the Mole. --with out pistols and swords and sticks-- shouted ther Rat. --and rush in upon them, said Badger. --and whack 'em, and whack 'em, and whack 'em! cried the Toad in ecstasy, running round and round the room, and jupming over the chairs.
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The whole wood seemed running now, running hard, hunting, chasing, closing in round something or - somebody? In panic, he began to run too, aimlessly, he knew not whither.
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The past was like a bad dream the future was all happy holiday as I moved Southwards week by week, easily, lazily, lingering as long as I dared, but always heeding the call!
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There seemed to be no end to this wood, and no beginning, and no difference in it, and, worse of all, no way out
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As a rule, indeed, grown-up people are fairly correct on matters of fact it is in the higher gift of imagination that they are so sadly to seek.
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The clever men of Oxford, know all that there is to be knowed but they none of them know one half as much as intelligent Mr. Toad.
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He had got down to the bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple.
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Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, Those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way.
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Glorious, stirring sight! murmured Toad. . . . The poetry of motion! The real way to travel! The only way to travel! Here today - in next week tomorrow! Villages skipped, towns and cities jumped- always somebody else's horizons! O bliss! O poop-poop! O my! O my!
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After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
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For my life, I confess to you, feels to me today somewhat narrow and circumscribed.
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It seemed a place where heroes could fitly feast after victory, where weary harvesters could line up in scores along the table and keep their Harvest Home with mirth and song, or where two or three friends of simple tastes could sit about as they pleased and eat and smoke and talk in comfort and contentment.
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No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.
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O what a flowery track lies spread before me, henceforth! What dust clouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on my reckless way! What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my magnificent onset!
Kenneth Grahame