“If you sprinkle when you tinkle please be neat and wipe the seat.”

“Why is it that when you wipe up dust its called dusting but when you wipe up a spill its not called spilling? Just something to think about.”

“I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will I trust, excuse me that I do not join you, but I have dined already, and I do not sup.”

“When you opened the door a bell tinkled, but just once, high and clear and small in the neat obscurity above the door, as though it were gauged and tempered to make that single clear small sound so as not to wear the bell out nor to require the expenditure of too much silence in restoring it when the door opened upon the recent warm scent of baking; a little dirty child with eyes like a toy bear's and two patent-leather pigtails.”

“When you feel sadness inside, wipe it away by cries and tears!”

“We’ll count it, even if it’s so incredibly gay that it should come with its own packet of fairy dust that you could sprinkle in the air when you say it.”