It is only through the ordinary that the extraordinary can make itself perceived. - P. L. Travers

"That's coral!" she cried in astonishment. "We must be down in the deeps of the sea!"
Well, wasn't that what you wanted?" said the trout. "I thought you wished you could see the sea!"
I did," said Jane, looking very surprised. "But I never expected the wish to come true."
Great oceans! Why bother to wish it then? I call that simply a waste of time. But come on! Mustn't be late for the party!

A writer is, after all, only half his book. The other half is the reader and from the reader the writer learns.

I’m not asleep,” Jane reassured her. “I’m thinking about the story.” “I heard every word,” said Michael, yawning. The Park Keeper rocked, as if in a trance. “A Nex-plorer in disguise,” he murmured, “sittin’ in the midnight sun and climbin’ the North Pole!” “Ouch!