Eugene Field

A mighty good sausage stuffer was spoiled when the man became a poet.

— Eugene Field

No book can be appreciated until it has been slept with and dreamed over.

— Eugene Field

I'd like a stocking made for a giant, And a meeting house full of toys, Then I'd go out in a happy…

— Eugene Field

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe, - Sailed on a river of crystal light Into a…

— Eugene Field

All good and true book-lovers practice the pleasing and improving avocation of reading in bed ... No book can be appreciated until…

— Eugene Field

There is a glorious candor in an honest quart of wine, A certain inspitation which I cannot well define.

— Eugene Field

Mr. Clarke played the King all evening as though under constant fear that someone else was about to play the Ace.

— Eugene Field

How gracious those dews of solace that over my senses fall At the clink of the ice in the pitcher the boy…

— Eugene Field

Ideas came with explosive immediacy, like an instant birth. Human thought is like a monstrous pendulum; it keeps swinging from one extreme…

— Eugene Field

Let my temptation be a book, which I shall purchase, hold and keep.

— Eugene Field

The best of all physiciansIs apple pie and cheese!

— Eugene Field

But I, when I undress me Each night, upon my knees Will ask the Lord to bless me With apple-pie and cheese.

— Eugene Field

Used to think that luck wuz luck and nuthin' else but luck-- It made no diff'rence how or when or where or…

— Eugene Field

When I demanded of my friend what viands he preferred, He quoth: "A large cold bottle, and a small hot bird!"

— Eugene Field

But he who truly loves books loves all books alike, and not only this, but it grieves him that all other men…

— Eugene Field

The biggest fish he ever caught were those that got away.

— Eugene Field

Not so, however, with books, for books cannot change. A thousand years hence they are what you find them to-day, speaking the…

— Eugene Field

All human joys are swift of wing, For heaven doth so allot it; That when you get an easy thing, You find…

— Eugene Field

Have you an unexpurgated copy of Hannah More's 'Letters to a Village Maiden'?

— Eugene Field

Books do actually consume air and exhale perfumes.

— Eugene Field

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellows call me Bill!.

— Eugene Field

What smells so? Has somebody been burning a Rag, or is there a Dead Mule in the Back yard? No, the Man…

— Eugene Field

“And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed; So shut your eyes while Mother sings Of wonderful…

— Eugene Field

Here we have a baby. It is composed of a bald head and a pair of lungs.

— Eugene Field

Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe; Sailed off on a river of crystal light into a…

— Eugene Field