Now the cough of a fly, sir, is quite hard to hear
When he’s ninety miles off, but I heard it quite clear.
So you see," bragged the rabbit, "it's perfectly true
That my ears are the best, so I’m better than you."

It’s mighty hard cooking to cook up such feasts
But that’s how the New Zoo, McGrew Zoo, gets beasts.

Very well, sir.
Step this way.
We'll find another game to play.

And I first saw the trees!
The Truffula Trees!
The bright-colored tufts of the Truffula Trees!
Mile after mile in the fresh morning breeze.

At the fork of a road in the Vale of Va-Vode
Five foot-weary salesmen have laid down their load.
All day they've raced round in the heat, at top speeds,
Unsuccessfully trying to sell Zizzer-Zoof seeds
Which nobody wants because nobody needs.

Today you are you! That is truer that true!
There is no one alive who is you-er than you!

But you have to be smart and keep watching their feet.
Because sometimes they stand on their tiptoes and cheat.

Then I let down my net.
It came down with a PLOP!
And I had them! At last!
Those two Things had to stop.
Then I said to the cat,
"Now you do as I say.
You pack up those Things
And you take them away!"

Then new troubles came from above and below!
A Skritz at my neck! And a Skrink at my toe!
And now I was really in trouble, you know.
The rocks! And the Quail! And the Skritz! And the Skrink!
I had so many troubles, I just couldn't think!

Today is your birthday. You get what you wish.
You might also like a nice Time-Telling Fish.

"Welcome!" he said as he gave me his hand.
"Welcome, my son, to this beautiful land.

But Mayzie, by this time, was far beyond reach,
Enjoying the sunshine way off in the Palm Beach,
And having such fun, such a wonderful rest,
Decided she’d never go back to her nest!

And you're lucky, indeed, you don't ride on a camel
To ride on a camel, you sit on a wamel.
A wamel, you know, is a sort of a saddle
held on by a button that's known as a faddle.
And, boy! If your old wamel-faddle gets loose,
I'm telling you, Duckie, you're gone like a goose.

Some sort of a creature of very small size,
Too small to be seen by an elephant’s eyes…
Some poor little person who’s shaking with fear
That he’ll blow in the pool! He has no way to steer!

When I leave home to walk to school, Dad always says to me,
'Marco, keep your eyelids up And see what you can see."

“Meet my wife!” said the bird. “I was married last night.
“And, perhaps by the way, I should mention to you
that her uncle is coming to live with us, too.

I never heard such whimpering
And I began to see
That I was just as strange to them
As they were strange to me!

He was shortish. And oldish.
And brownish. And mossy.
And he spoke with a voice
that was sharpish and bossy.
"Mister!" he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
"I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.

FOR I HAD A STORY THAT NO ONE COULD BEAT!
AND TO THINK THAT I SAW IT ON MULBERRY STREET!

You hear and you smell, but how far can you see?
Now I'm here to prove to you big boasting guys
That your nose and your ears aren't as good as my eyes."

But it wasn’t enough, all this ruckus and roar!
He HAD to find someone to help him make more.
He raced through each building!
He searched floor-to-floor!

"Now! Now! Have no fear.
Have no fear!" said the cat.
"My tricks are not bad,"
Said the Cat in the Hat.
"Why, we can have
Lots of good fun, if you wish,
with a game that I call
UP-UP-UP with a fish!"

PAT PAT they call him Pat.
PAT SAT Pat sat on hat.
PAT CAT Pat sat on cat.
PAT BAT Pat sat on bat.
NO PAT NO Don’t sit on that.

And I saw, just as soon as I stepped back on land,
So were all of the girls of the Butter-Up Band.
The Chief Drum Majorette, Miz Yookie-Ann Sue, said,
“That was a pretty sour flight that you flew.

And it should be, it should be, it should be like that!
Because Horton was faithful! He sat and he sat!
He meant what he said
And he said what he meant…”
…And they sent him home happy,
One hundred per cent!

And the one speck of food That he left in the house,
Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Fox in socks, our game is done, sir.
Thank you for a lot of fun, sir.

And at the very instant we heard a klupp-klupp
Of feet on the Wall and old Van Itch klupped up!
The Boys in HIS Back Room had made him one too!
In his fist was another Big-Boy Boomeroo!
“I’ll blow you,” he yelled, “into pork and wee beans!
I’ll butter-side-up you to small smithereens!”

It is fun to sing if you sing with a Ying.
My Ying can sing like anything.
I sing high and my Ying sings low.
And we are not too bad, you know.

I was racing pell-mell when I heard a voice yell,
“If you sprinkle us Zooks, you’ll get sprinkled as well!”
Van Itch had a Sputter exactly like mine!