Pooh Bear Love Quotes

How do you spell 'love'?" - Piglet "You don't spell it...you feel it." - Pooh

Oh, Bear!” said Christopher Robin. “How I do love you!” “So do I,” said Pooh.

Perhaps love is the process of my gently leading you back to yourself.” For that’s what that little dog did. He led, I followed, and in the end I became the man I dreamed of being when I was a little boy. So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing. —A. A. MILNE, THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER

Now, 'that sort of Bear' is of course a bear who wants to be flattered, and it is plain that the Christophoric ear is using Pooh to make its own devious request that it (the ear's projection, 'Christopher Robin') be made the center of attention. The Milnean voice, however, in its didactic-paternal role, is unprepared simply to feed the self-love of the Christophoric ear; it (the voice) must also see that it (the ear) is properly edified in a moral sense. The stories, therefore, will express a vector of the two forces pleasing and teaching the Christophoric ear.

From the very moment of Kanga's appearance the pastoral playground is overshadowed by doubt and guilt, for the all-too-loving anima-Woman has pitched her temple here!

Before Emily got sick, the last time I’d been to their house was when she invited me to an award banquet in honor of Paul. Please. I don’t want to be around those university wives alone, she said when she called. They’re so aggressive. I was surprised, we hadn’t been close for years, not since Dad died. But I went anyway, and of course Emily was completely in her element, the professors’ wives all half envious and half in love with her. I had spent the better part of the night by her side, playing the role of big sister—champion and bodyguard—before I realized that she invited me not to give her support, but to bear witness to her greatness. To the spectacle of her in rare form. Queen even in a world that pooh-poohed Hollywood. If religion is the opium of the people, one of her tenured professor friends said within earshot of me, then film is our partial lobotomy.