So please get your rags And your polishing jars, Somebody has to go polish the stars.
I was so lucky that I didn’t have anyone to copy, be impressed by. I had developed my own style, I was creating before I knew there was a Thurber, a Benchley, a Price and a Steinberg. I never saw their work until I was around thirty.
TREE HOUSE A tree house, a free house, A secret you and me house, A high up in the leafy branches Cozy as can be house. A street house, a neat house, Be sure to wipe your feet house Is not my kind of house at all- Let’s go live in a tree house.
You’d better get your laugh while you’re making your point, or you won’t be doing it very long.
When I am gone what will you do? Who will write and draw for you? Someone smarter – someone new? Someone better – maybe YOU!
At night my mind does not much care if what it thinks is here or there. It tells me stories, it invents and makes up things that don’t make sense. I do not know why it does this stuff. The real world seems quite weird enough.
G’bye, I’m going out to play!
We’re all worth the same When we turn off the light.
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend, or wise man can decide what’s right for you.
Although I cannot see your face As you flip these poems awhile, Somewhere from some far-off place I hear you laughing – and I smile.
I was always prepared for success but that means that I have to be prepared for failure, too.
If you’re nasty, I won’t fight. If you’re rough, well that’s just you. If you’re mean, that’s alright too. Whatever you are is all okay. I don’t like you anyway.
I’d rather play tennis than go to the dentist. I’d rather play soccer than go to the doctor. I’d rather play Hurk than go to work. Hurk? Hurk? What’s Hurk? I don’t know but it MUST be better than work!
There is a place where the sidewalk ends.
We can’t hold hands – Someone might see. Won’t you please Hold toes with me?
I would hope that people, no matter what age, would find something to identify with in my books, pick one up and experience a personal sense of discovery. That’s great. But for them, not for me.
Tell me I’m clever, Tell me I’m kind, Tell me I’m talented, Tell me I’m cute, Tell me I’m sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I’m perfect – But tell me the truth.
Runny’s Nicpic One day Runny Babbit Met little Franny Fog. He said, “Let’s have a nicpic Down by the lollow hog.” He brought some cutter bookies, Some teanuts and some pea. And what did Franny Fog bring? Her whole fog framily.
My beard grows down to my toes, I never wears no clothes, I wraps my hair Around my bare, And down the road I goes.
So I’m all of love that could make it today.