Asked Piglet Quotes

What day is it?” asked Pooh. “It’s today,” squeaked Piglet. “My favorite day,” said Pooh.

We'll be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh?' asked Piglet. Even longer,' Pooh answered.” Winnie-the-Pooh

Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!” said Piglet, feeling him. Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time.

We'll be friends forever, won't we, Pooh?' asked Piglet. 'Even longer.' Pooh answered.

WHERE did you say it was?' asked Pooh. Just here,' said Eeyore. Made of sticks?' Yes' Oh!' said Piglet. What?' said Eeyore. I just said "Oh!"' said Piglet nervously. And so as to seem quite at ease he hummed Tiddely-pom once or twice in a what-shall-we-do-now kind of way.

How does one become butterfly?' Pooh asked pensively. 'You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar,' Piglet replied. 'You mean to die?' asked Pooh. 'Yes and now,' he answered. 'What looks like you will die, but what's really you will live on.

How did you fall in, Eeyore?" asked Rabbit, as he dried him with Piglet's handkerchief. "I didn't," said Eeyore. "But how--" "I was BOUNCED," said Eeyore. "Oo," said Roo excitedly, "did somebody push you?" "Somebody BOUNCED me. I was just thinking by the side of the river--thinking, if any of you know what that means--when I received a loud BOUNCE." "Oh, Eeyore!" said everybody. "Are you sure you didn't slip?" asked Rabbit wisely. "Of course I slipped. If you're standing on the slippery bank of a river, and somebody BOUNCES you loudly from behind, you slip. What did you think I did?

Eeyore", said Owl, "Christopher Robin is giving a party." "Very interesting," said Eeyore. "I suppose they will be sending me down the odd bits which got trodden on. Kind and Thoughtful. Not at all, don't mention it." "There is an Invitation for you." "What's that like?" "An Invitation!" "Yes, I heard you. Who dropped it?" "This isn't something to eat, it's asking you to the party. To-morrow." Eeyore shook his head slowly. "You mean Piglet. The little fellow with the exited ears. That's Piglet. I'll tell him." "No, no!" said Owl, getting quite fussy. "It's you!" "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure. Christopher Robin said 'All of them! Tell all of them'" "All of them, except Eeyore?" "All of them," said Owl sulkily. "Ah!" said Eeyore. "A mistake, no doubt, but still, I shall come. Only don't blame me when it rains.

Piglet said that Tigger was very Bouncy, and that if they could think of a way of unbouncing him, it would be a Very Good Idea. "Just what I feel," said Rabbit. "What do you say, Pooh?" Pooh opened his eyes with a jerk and said, "Extremely." "Extremely what?" asked Rabbit. "What you were saying," said Pooh. "Undoubtably.

The most direct path to Party was raising pigs. The company had several dozen of these and they occupied an unequaled place in the hearts of the soldiers; officers and men alike would hang around the pigsty, observing, commenting, and willing the animals to grow. If the pigs were doing well, the swine herds were the darlings of the company, and there were many contestants for this profession. Xiao-her became a full-time swineherd. It was hard, filthy work, not to mention the psychological pressure. Every night he and his colleagues took turns to get up in the small hours to give the pigs an extra feed. When a sow produced piglets they kept watch night after night in case she crushed them. Precious soybeans were carefully picked, washed, ground, strained, made into 'soybean milk," and lovingly fed to the mother to stimulate her milk. Life in the air force was very unlike what Xiao-her had imagined. Producing food took up more than a third of the entire time he was in the military. At the end of a year's arduous pig raising, Xiao-her was accepted into the Party. Like many others, he put his feet up and began to take it easy. After membership in the Party, everyone's ambition was to become an officer; whatever advantage the former brought, the latter doubled it. Getting to be an officer depended on being picked by one's superiors, so the key was never to displease them. One day Xiao-her was summoned to see one of the college's political commissars. Xiao-her was on tenterhooks, not knowing whether he was in for some unexpected good fortune or total disaster. The commissar, a plump man in his fifties with puffy eyes and a loud, commanding voice, looked exceedingly benign as he lit up a cigarette and asked Xiao-her about his family background, age, and state of health. He also asked whether he had a fiance to which Xiao-her replied that he did not. It struck Xiao-her as a good sign that the man was being so personal. The commissar went on to praise him: "You have studied Marxism-Leninism-Mao Zedong Thought conscientiously. You have worked hard. The masses have a good impression of you. Of course, you must keep on being modest; modesty makes you progress," and so on. By the time the commissar stubbed out his cigarette, Xiao-her thought his promotion was in his pocket.

My dear Pooh," said Owl, "everybody knows that it's spelled with a Two." "Is it?" asked Pooh. "Of course," said Owl. "After all, it's the second day of the week." "Oh, is that the way it works?" asked Pooh. "All right, Owl," I said. "Then what comes after Twosday?" "Thirdsday," said Owl. "Owl, you're just confusing things," I said. "This is the day after Tuesday, and it's not Thirds — I mean, Thursday." "Then what is it?" asked Owl. "It's Today!" squeaked Piglet. "My favorite day," said Pooh.

Mrs. Parker had a rooted aversion to [A. A.] Milne in all his pastel moods and a little history to go with it. In 1928 she had been required—in her capacity as ‘Constant Reader’—to review his latest offering, a book called The House at Pooh Corner, in which Piglet asks Pooh why he has added the phrase ‘Tiddely-pom’ to a song, and Pooh answers, ‘To make it more hummy.’ ‘And it is that word “hummy,” my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weeder frowed up’” (25).

I thought you'd left me," he said. "Monday is shopping night," she replied. "Yeah, but I thought you left me. I was so scared," he rasped, face folding. Two pints of milk, two tubs of Greek yoghurt, Parmesan, and smoked mackerel for the fridge. "Well, I haven't," she said. "I went shopping." Whole wheat spaghetti, two tins of chickpeas, two tins of tomatoes, and red lentils for the cupboard. "Are you OK?" he asked. Garlic, sweet potatoes, and red onions for the bottom drawer. "Darling, please talk to me," he begged. Bananas, apples, and Comte pears for the fruit bowl. "Darling, please. I can't have you not talking to me." A bar of 85 percent Green and Black's and Kettle Chips for the top cupboard.

Artie was silent as they left the room. Then...she asked, "Did you have a piglet when you were a little boy?" "I had a donkey, Thaddeus replied. ..Artie bent her knees in the approximation of a curtsy. "Good afternoon. I would like a donkey she told him. "For my birthday..." "I'll consider it," Thaddeus said gravely. Artie turned to Joan. "And those-" she said , pointing to Joan's breeches. I want those." Joan..."I'll consider it," she said, stealing Thaddeus's line. Artie squinted at them, and then, in a magnificent approximation of Aunt Knowe's voice said, "See that you do." Joan was still gaping after her little sister....when she realized Thaddeus was laughing again. Bellowing with laughter. "She's the picture of your Aunt Knowe, he said.. I agree, Joan said, And: "You're laughing again!" "I laugh around you," he said, his voice as rough as his kiss.

Christopher Robin [In April of 1996 the international press carried the news of the death, at age seventy-five, of Christopher Robin Milne, immortalized in a book by his father, A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh, as Christopher Robin.] I must think suddenly of matters too difficult for a bear of little brain. I have never asked myself what lies beyond the place where we live, I and Rabbit, Piglet and Eeyore, with our friend Christopher Robin. That is, we continued to live here, and nothing changed, and I just ate my little something. Only Christopher Robin left for a moment. Owl says that immediately beyond our garden Time begins, and that it is an awfully deep well. If you fall in it, you go down and down, very quickly, and no one knows what happens to you next. I was a bit worried about Christopher Robin falling in, but he came back and then I asked him about the well. 'Old bear,' he answered. 'I was in it and I was falling and I was changing as I fell. My legs became long, I was a big person, I grew old, hunched, and I walked with a cane, and then I died. It was probably just a dream, it was quite unreal. The only real thing was you, old bear, and our shared fun. Now I won't go anywhere, even if I'm called in for an afternoon snack.

Back on the road with all four tires intact, we immediately encountered a herd of young feral pigs. With Henry scrambling after us to film, Steve and I gave chase. Steve called the little piglets “piggy banks,” and as they shoot off in every direction, we had to run like the wind. Steve would dive like a football hero, launching himself through the air to grab a pig. I’d try the same technique and would just look like a sick bear, flopping over on the ground. Luckily, Sui helped round them up. Steve caught a little black-and-white-spotted piglet and explained to the camera the harm that introduced species can do to the native environment, all the while trying to talk over the squealing pig he held in his arms. “They’re feral and not native to Australia,” he said. “In some places they are causing all kinds of problems.” Eventually, after running through the bush until I was exhausted, I finally managed to catch one of the piglets. I felt a great sense of accomplishment, holding the cute little pig and filming with Steve. When we were done, I set my little piglet down. “What is that smell?” I asked. Steve stopped and sniffed. “Ah, you won’t believe it,” he said, looking past me at something near the road. “Those pigs have been feeding on that carcass over there.” I looked up to see the long-dead, putrid body. The piglets had scampered happily back to their mama. Steve and I lived with the smell of death on our hands, arms, shoes, and even our hair--for days afterward.

He pulled out the little pink pig and handed him to her with an identical card to the ones she’d been carrying. She opened the card and read it out loud. ‘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. If you live to be 100, I want to live to be 100 minus one day so I never have to live without you.’ “Promise me,” Noah said. Arie looked up. “Promise me that you will allow me to live to be one hundred minus one day with you so that I never have to live without you.” Arie looked down at the card, and then down at Piglet, and then at Noah. And then at Piglet again. What is tied to Piglet’s bow? “Oh my goodness,” she gasped. “Marry me, Arie. I’m asking you again. Please. Be my wife.

What day is it? asked Pooh. It’s today, squeaked Piglet. My favorite day, said Pooh. (A. A. Milne)

What is oinkiness?" asked Cardinal Bird Oh, don't you know? You haven't heard? said The Owl who was kind and wise, When you meet The Moon Pig you'll be surprised ... Luna has oinkiness and has it lots! You've either got it or you have not!

…for only someone who has lived in a totalitarian state can appreciate the true character of paranoia. In 1937, when my father returned to Kiev from Luhansk, the whole country was bathed in a miasma of paranoia. It seeped everywhere, into the most intimate crevices of people's lives: it soured the relationship between friends and colleagues, between teachers and students, between parents and children, husbands and wives. Enemies were everywhere. If you didn't like the way someone has sold you a piglet, or looked at your girlfriend, or asked for money you owned, or given you a low mark in an exam, a quick word to the NKVD would sort them out...

What day is it?’, asked Winnie the Pooh. ‘It’s today,’ squeaked Piglet. ‘My favorite day,’ said Pooh.” —The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

We'll be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh? asked Piglet. Even longer, Pooh answered.

Alfie is the goon in the team: think of Scooby-Doo with the brains of Homer Simpson. People often can’t believe he’s a collie because he is as smooth as a piglet and built like a lurcher with long legs and a deep chest. He is a true athlete and can run for miles and miles without tiring. Dog owners call it ‘having a good engine.’ He is obedient to the last – but sometimes ‘obedient’ can be another word for ‘stupid.’ If I ask him to lie down and get side-tracked, he will stay glued to the very spot until eventually I come looking for him ten minutes later. I would take sheep out the same gate every day for a week and on day seven Alfie would still need to be told what to do. But he is a great work dog and very honest, and no matter what situation he gets into he is always listening for my commands and has full faith that I will not see him wrong.

Having trouble, Piglet?” “The lid on this jar is stuck,” gasped Piglet. “Yes, it . . . is, isn’t it. Here, Pooh, you open it.” (Pop.) “Thanks, Pooh,” said Piglet. “Nothing, really,” said Pooh. “How did you get that lid off?” asked Tigger. “It’s easy,” said Pooh. “You just twist on it like this, until you can’t twist any harder. Then you take a deep breath and, as you let it out, twist. That’s all.” “Let me try that!” yelled Tigger, bouncing into the kitchen. “Where’s that new jar of pickles? Ah, here it is.” “Tigger,” began Piglet nervously, “I don’t think you’d better—” “Nothing to it,” said Tigger. ‘‘Just twist, and—” CRASH! “All right, Tigger,” I said. “Get those pickles off the floor.” “Slipped out of my paw,” explained Tigger. “He tried too hard,” said Pooh. And when you try too hard, it doesn’t work. Try grabbing something quickly and precisely with a tensed-up arm; then relax and try it again. Try doing something with a tense mind. The surest way to become Tense, Awkward, and Confused is to develop a mind that tries too hard—one that thinks too much. The animals in the Forest don’t think too much; they just Are. But with an overwhelming number of people, to misquote an old Western philosopher, it’s a case of “I think, therefore I am Confused.” If you compare the City with the Forest, you may begin to wonder why it’s man who goes around classifying himself as The Superior Animal.

Aren’t lylle pigs supposed to be really intelligent?” I asked, as he caught a wing and then immediately yelped, rearing back to shake his snout. “Why do they have wings, anyway?

Do you make a study of pigs, Monsieur?” she asked, with a muffled note of amusement. “Of course. I’ve observed them frequently on my breakfast plate.” They had neared the first of the pens, where a stockman was lovingly bathing the ears of an enormously fat spotted sow. Five piglets squealed and gurgled about her panting bulk. “Note the marvelous coil of the tail.” He gestured with his cane. “Absolute perfection!” “And those ears,” Callie said, nodding sagely. “She appears to have two!” “Four legs,” Trev added, cataloging all her points. “Are you certain she has legs?” Callie asked dubiously. “I don’t see any.” “They are hidden under her porcine vastness,” he informed her. He tilted his head speculatively as they reached the pen. “Unless she has wheels. Perhaps she rolls from place to place?