Quotes by Roald Dahl

A whizzpopper! cried the BFG, beaming at her. Us giants is making whizzpoppers all the time! Whizzpopping is a sign of happiness. It is music in our ears! You surely is not telling me that a little whizzpopping if forbidden among human beans?

Id rather be fried alive and eaten by Mexicans.

I think probably kindness is my number one attribute in a human being. Ill put it before any of the things like courage or bravery or generosity or anything else.Brian Sibley: Or brains even?Oh gosh, yes, brains is one of the least. You can be a lovely person without brains, absolutely lovely. Kindness - that simple word. To be kind - it covers everything, to my mind.If youre kind thats it.

I is a dreamblowing giant,” the BFG said. “(...) I is scuddling away to other places to blow dreams into the bedrooms of sleeping children. Nice dreams. Lovely golden dreams. Dreams that is giving the dreamers a happy time.

A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it

The life of a writer is absolute hell compared to the life of a businessman. The writer has to force himself to work He has to make his own hours and if he doesnt go to his desk at all there is nobody to scold him...A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it.

The writer walks out of his workroom in a daze. He wants a drink. He needs it. It happens to be a fact that nearly every writer of fiction in the world drinks more whisky than is good for him. He does it to give himself faith hope and courage. A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul and that I am sure is why he does it.

Dont gobblefunk around with words.

There are many other little refinements too, Mr. Bohlen. Youll see them all when you study the plans carefully. For example, theres a trick that nearly every writer uses, of inserting at least one long, obscure word into each story. This makes the reader think that the man is very wise and clever. So I have the machine do the same thing. Therell be a whole stack of long words stored away just for this purpose.Where?In the word-memory section, he said, epexegetically.

I have a passion for teaching kids to become readers, to become comfortable with a book, not daunted. Books shouldnt be daunting, they should be funny, exciting and wonderful; and learning to be a reader gives a terrific advantage.

So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone.

The books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives. She went on olden-day sailing ships with Joseph Conrad. She went to Africa with Ernest Hemingway and to India with Rudyard Kipling. She travelled all over the world while sitting in her little room in an English village.

You is getting nosier than a parker.

This allowed her two glorious hours sitting quietly by herself in a cozy corner, devouring one book after another. When she had read every single childrens book in the place, she started wandering round in search of something else.

A dream is not needing anything. If it is a good one, it is waiting peaceably for ever until it is released and allowed to do its job. If it is a bad one, it is always fighting to get out.

I shall never have a bath again, I said. Just dont have one too often, my grandmother said. Once a month is quite enough for a sensible child. It was at times like these that I loved my grandmother more than ever.

England once there lived a bigAnd wonderfully clever pig.To everybody it was plainThat Piggy had a massive brain.He worked out sums inside his head,There was no book he hadnt read.He knew what made an airplane fly,He knew how engines worked and why.He knew all this, but in the endOne question drove him round the bend:He simply couldnt puzzle outWhat LIFE was really all about.What was the reason for his birth?Why was he placed upon this earth?His giant brain went round and round.Alas, no answer could be found.Till suddenly one wondrous night.All in a flash he saw the light.He jumped up like a ballet dancerAnd yelled, By gum, Ive got the answer!They want my bacon slice by sliceTo sell at a tremendous price!They want my tender juicy chopsTo put in all the butchers shops!They want my pork to make a roastAnd thats the partll cost the most!They want my sausages in strings!They even want my chitterlings!The butchers shop! The carving knife!That is the reason for my life!Such thoughts as these are not designedTo give a pig great piece of mind.Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,A pail of pigswill in his hand,And piggy with a mighty roar,Bashes the farmer to the floor…Now comes the rather grizzly bitSo lets not make too much of it,Except that you must understandThat Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,He ate him up from head to toe,Chewing the pieces nice and slow.It took an hour to reach the feet,Because there was so much to eat,And when he finished, Pig, of course,Felt absolutely no remorse.Slowly he scratched his brainy headAnd with a little smile he said,I had a fairly powerful hunchThat he might have me for his lunch.And so, because I feared the worst,I thought Id better eat him first.

The matter with human beans, the BFG went on, is that they is absolutely refusing to believe in anything unless they is actually seeing it right in front of their own schnozzles.

No one who is good can ever be ugly.

Im wondering what to read next. Matilda said. Ive finished all the childrens books.