“One warm morning in July, a ghost came to our breakfast table.”

“One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and - pop! - out of the egg came a tiny and very hungry caterpillar.”

“We met every morning, still bearded with toast crumbs from our continental breakfasts.”

“We've only been sitting here forty minutes. I'm never at the morning table less than an hour and a half. I do some of my finest plotting over breakfast coffee and raisin brioche.”

“The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”

“I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany´s.”