Hallo, Pooh, ' said Rabbit. 'Hallo, Rabbit, ' said Pooh dreamily. 'Did you make that song up?' 'Well, I sort of made it up, ' said Pooh. 'It isn't Brain, ' he went on humbly, 'because You Know Why, Rabbit; but it comes to me sometimes.' 'Ah!' said Rabbit, who never let things come to him, but always went and fetched them.
A lot of people experience the world with the same incredulity as when a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat.... We know that the world is not all sleight of hand and deception because we are in it, we are part of it. Actually we are the white rabbit being pulled out of the hat. The only difference beween us and the white rabbit is that the rabbit does not realize it is taking part in a magic trick.
A lot of people experience the world with the same incredulity as when a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat... We know that the world is not all sleight of hand and deception because we are in it, we are part of it. Actually we are the white rabbit being pulled out of the hat. The only difference beween us and the white rabbit is that the rabbit does not realize it is taking part in a magic trick.
I want to be the guy in a movie who's, I don't know, out walking his rabbit on a leash (I don't have a rabbit) and knows exactly how to strike up a quirky, compelling conversation. Though maybe if you're walking a rabbit on a leash, you don't even have to speak; the rabbit does the work for you. Not that Zuzana seems like the rabbity type. Maybe if I were walking a fox on a leash. Or a hyena. Yeah, if I had a hyena, I'd probably never have to start a conversation again. Except for, "Sorry my hyena ate your leg.
They're ghosts, surely, and Rabbit absolutely believes in them. There are things in the world, strange machinations of physics and chemistry, queer intersections of biology and theology, that Rabbit hasn't the slightest interest in assuming he'll ever understand or be able to solve. They're simply there to be believed in, and Rabbit is a born believer. He wants to believe. He has always thought of life as pregnant with possibility- a freak twister or wardrobe the only thing separating him from another world- so ghosts, spirits, aliens and supreme beings coexist within Rabbit with ease. There's a kind of beauty in accepting the possibility, if not the plausibility, of everything imaginable.
Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.
EFFECT, n. The second of two phenomena which always occur together in the same order. The first, called a Cause, is said to generate the other-which is no more sensible than it would be for one who has never seen a dog except in pursuit of a rabbit to declare the rabbit the cause of the dog.
Autobiography, if there really is such a thing, is like asking a rabbit to tell us what he looks like hopping through the grasses of the field. How would he know? If we want to hear about the field on the other hand, no one is in a better circumstance to tell us-so long as we keep in mind that we are missing all those things the rabbit was in no position to observe.
Went to the grocery store, got everything on my list and went up to the checkout. I put a bag of pet food for our rabbit on the conveyor. The girl looked at me and said, Do you have a rabbit? I looked at here and said deadpan, Nope. Just like 'em 'cause they're crunchy. Here's your sign.
My point is that when you look at a rabbit and can see only a pest, or vermin, or a meal, or a commodity, or a laboratory subject, you aren't seeing the rabbit anymore. You are seeing only yourself and the schemes and appetites we bring to the world-seeing, come to think of it, like an animal instead of as a moral being with moral vision.
Well, I've got an idea, " said Rabbit, "and here it is. We take Tigger for a long explore, somewhere where he's never been, and we lose him there, and next morning we find him again, and-mark my words-he'll be a different Tigger altogether." "Why?" said Pooh. "Because he'll be a Humble Tigger. Because he'll be a Sad Tigger, a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see-you Tigger. That's why." "Will he be glad to see me and Piglet, too?" "Of course." "That's good, " said Pooh. "I should hate him to go on being Sad, " said Piglet doubtfully. "Tiggers never go on being Sad, " explained Rabbit.
As his gaze rose to her face - he bit back a gasp. "Your hair, it's - " "Red."... "You look stunning."... "Did I ever tell you that when I was growing up, my favorite cartoon characters was Jessica Rabbit?"... "You always had the curves, but now, with the hair... " He blew out an exaggerated Roger Rabbit whistle. "You're a spittin' image.
And then, well . . . He might have slept for a bit. He rather hoped he was sleeping, because he was quite certain he'd seen a six-foot rabbit hopping through his bedchamber, and if that wasn't a dream, they were all in very big trouble. Although really, it wasn't the rabbit that was so dangerous as much as the giant carrot he was swinging about like a mace. That carrot would feed an entire village.
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.
No consideration at all is given to the interests of the "pests" - the very word "pest" seems to exclude any concern for the animals themselves. But the classification "pest" is our own, and a rabbit that is a pest is as capable of suffering, and as deserving of consideration, as a white rabbit who is a beloved companion animal.
And out floated Eeyore. "Eeyore!" cried everybody. Looking very calm, very dignified, with his legs in the air, came Eeyore from beneath the bridge. "It's Eeyore!" cried Roo, terribly excited. "Is that so?" said Eeyore, getting caught up by a little eddy, and turning slowly round three times. "I wondered." "I didn't know you were playing, " said Roo. "I'm not, " said Eeyore. "Eeyore, what are you doing there?" said Rabbit. "I'll give you three guesses, Rabbit. Digging holes in the ground? Wrong. Leaping from branch to branch of a young oak-tree? Wrong. Waiting for somebody to help me out of the river? Right. Give Rabbit time, and he'll always get the answer." "But, Eeyore, " said Pooh in distress, "what can we-I mean, how shall we-do you think if we-" "Yes, " said Eeyore. "One of those would be just the thing. Thank you, Pooh.
Within each of us there is an Owl, a Rabbit, and Eeyore, and a Pooh. For too long, we have chosen the way of Owl and Rabbit. Now, like Eeyore, we complain about the results. But that accomplishes nothing. If we are smart, we will choose the way of Pooh. As if from far away, it calls us with the voice of a child's mind. It may be hard to hear at times, but it is important just the same, because without it, we will never find our way through the forest.
Within each of us there is an Owl, a Rabbit, an Eeyore, and a Pooh. For too long, we have chosen the way of Owl and Rabbit. Now, like Eeyore, we complain about the results. But that accomplishes nothing. If we are smart, we will choose the way of Pooh. As if from far away, it calls to us with the voice of a child's mind. It may be hard to hear at times, but it is important just the same, because without it, we will never find our way through the forest.
The horns of a rabbit do not inherently exist because they do not exist at all. The mere realization of their non-existence reveals that the horns of a rabbit do not inherently exist; therefore, the non-inherent existence of the horns of a rabbit is not an emptiness. An emptiness is not understood through realizing the mere non-existence of an object; it is known through comprehending in an existent object the absence of the quality of inherent or objective existence.
He lifted his shirt, and on his back was the White Rabbit, wearing his waistcoat and looking at his watch. It was just like the illustration from the book. Only standing next to him, back-to-back, was another White Rabbit wearing a leather motercycle jacket and boots and smoking a cigar.
Michael Thomas Ford
We've turned off all the lights in the living room to make hand shadows. We've got this big flashlight aimed at the wall. I make the silhouette of my hand into a duck. Robin makes his into a rabbit. Now my duck kisses his rabbit And-POOF!- it turns into a turkey. And for some reason this strikes us as hysterically funny. But you probably had to be there.
The fish trap exists because of the fish. Once you've gotten the fish you can forget the trap. The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit. Once you've gotten the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning. Once you've gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a man who has forgotten words so I can talk with him?
Some people draw a comforting distinction between force and violence. I refuse to cloud the issue by such word-play. The power which establishes a state is violence; the power which maintains it is violence; the power which eventually overthrows it is violence. Call an elephant a rabbit only if it gives you comfort to feel that you are about to be trampled to death by a rabbit.
I therefore invite you all," Mr Fox went on, 'to stay here with me for ever.' For ever!' they cried. 'My goodness! How marvellous!' And Rabbit said to Mrs Rabbit, 'My dear, just think! We're never going to be shot again in our lives!' We will make,' said Mr Fox, 'a little underground village, with streets and houses on each side - seperate houses for Badgers and Moles and Rabbits and Weasels and Foxes. And every day I will go shopping for you all. And every day we will eat like kings.' The cheering that followed this speech went on for many minutes.
How would it be, ' said Pooh slowly, 'if, as soon as we're out of sight of this Pit, we try to find it again?' 'What's the good of that?' said Rabbit. 'Well, ' said Pooh, 'we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we'd be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren't looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really.' 'I don't see much sense in that, ' said Rabbit. 'No, ' said Pooh humbly, 'there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it on the way.
The blue-backed notebooks, the two pencils and the pencil sharpener (a pocket knife was too wasteful) the marble-topped tables, the smell of early morning, sweeping out and mopping, and luck were all you needed. For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit's foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit's foot long ago and the bones and the sinews were polished by wear. The claws scratched in the lining of your pocket and you knew your luck was still there.
He picked up the letter Q and hurled it into a distant privet bush where it hit a young rabbit. The rabbit hurtled off in terror and didn't stop till it was set upon and eaten by a fox which choked on one of its bones and died on the bank of a stream which subsequently washed it away. During the following weeks Ford Perfect swallowed his pride and struck up a relationship with a girl who had been a personnel officer on Golgafrincham, and he was terribly upset when she suddenly passed away as a result of drinking water from a pool that had been polluted by the body of a dead fox.
Like, okay, look up at that cloud and tell me what you see, ' Bree said, pointing up at the closest cloud above them. 'What do you mean, what do I see? It's a cloud. I see a cloud, ' Alessandro insisted. 'No, what do you see? Like when you go to a shrink and they make you look at ink blots, ' Bree explained. Alessandro looked over at her. 'How much wine did you drink?' She smacked his arm. 'I'll go first. I see a rabbit.' 'A rabbit?' Alessandro asked, laughing. 'Yeah, the top of that one is shaped like ears, long rabbit ears.' 'Ah, I see what you're doing now. All right then. That one there... looks like... ' Alessandro squinted his eyes as if hard in concentration. 'An airplane.' 'Oh, yeah. I see that, ' Bree agreed. 'Okay, what about that one?' She pointed to a cloud to Alessandro's right. 'That one looks rather like my wife's sweet pert little ass, ' Alessandro joked. 'After two kids? You're delusional, ' she said laughing. 'My turn. I think that one looks like... ' Bree tilted her head. 'My wife's beautiful round breasts, ' Alessandro injected. 'Stop that!' Bree said, giggling. 'Excuse me, I'm just playing the game.' 'No, you're not. You're being a horny guy.' Alessandro pressed a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him. 'To prove it to you, I say we compare.' He undid the buttons of her blouse and Bree was laughing too hard to stop him.