Poor, poor fool why can’t you see She can love others and still love thee.
Catalog
Shel Silverstein
Sheldon Allan "Shel" Silverstein (/ˈsɪl.vər.stiːn/; September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999) was an American poet, singer-songwriter, cartoonist, screenwriter, and author of children's books. He styled himself as Uncle Shelby in some works. Translated into more than 30 languages, his books have sold over 20 million copies. He was the recipient of two Grammy Awards, as well as a Golden Globe and Academy Award nominee. 2Personal life Born into a Jewish family, Silverstein grew up in the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago, attended Roosevelt High School and, later, the University of Illinois, from which he was expelled. He then enrolled in Chicago Academy of Fine Arts where he was attending when he was drafted into the United States Army. He served in Japan and Korea. He had one daughter, Shoshanna Jordan Hastings, born June 30, 1970, with Susan Taylor Hastings of Sausalito, California. Susan died on June 29, 1975, one day before Shoshanna's fifth birthday, and Shoshanna died April 24, 1982, at age 11, of a cerebral aneurysm. He also had a son named Matthew, born November 10, 1984, with Sarah Spencer of Key West, Florida; Sarah drove the conch train and inspired Shel's song "The Great Conch Train Robbery." On May 10, 1999, Silverstein died at age 68 of a heart attack in Key West, Florid
He wasted his wishes on wishing.
Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child, Listen to the DON’TS Listen to the SHOULDN’TS The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT’S Listen to the NEVER HAVES Then listen close to me- Anything can happen, child, ANYTHING can be.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind.
Mrs. McTwitter the baby-sitter, I think she's a little bit crazy. She thinks a baby-sitter's supposed To sit upon the baby.
If you have to dry the dishes And you drop one on the floor– Maybe they won't let you Dry the dishes anymore.
How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live 'em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give 'em.
There are no happy endings, endings are the saddest part, so just give me a happy middle, and a very happy start.
And all the colors I am inside Have not been invented yet.
If you are a dreamer, come in, If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer . . . If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
But all the magic I have known I've had to make myself.
So I’m all of love that could make it today.
Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me...Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.
….and she loved a little boy very, very much– even more than she loved herself.
Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is a good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did. And the tree was happy.