“My dear child,” he replied, “impossible is just a word invented by people who have never tried to un-boil an egg.”
My mother was standing in the kitchen, making a noise like a boiling kettle. “That cat is a menace!” she shrieked. “A FURRY MENACE!” my dad is fantastic roald dahl pdf
“That’s impossible,” I said.
And when I say fantastic, I do not mean the sort of fantastic you say when someone gives you a new pencil case. I mean FAN-TAS-TIC with capital letters, like a giant walking through a forest. “My dear child,” he replied, “impossible is just
“Psst,” he whispered. “If you eat one more hat, I shall teach you to knit your own.” And when I say fantastic, I do not
My father put down his toast. He looked at the cat. The cat looked at him. Then my father did something extraordinary. He picked up the cat, sat it on the table, and whispered something in its ear. I crept closer.