From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs Basil E. Frankweiler

by E.L. Konigsburg

(Flattery is as important a machine as the lever, isn’t it, Saxonberg? Give it a proper place to rest, and it can move the world.)

“Oho! You don’t want to lose your bargaining weapon,” I crowed. “Is that why you’re not telling me where you stayed?” “That’s part of the reason,” she said. “The other part is—I think the other part is—that if I tell, then I know for sure that my adventure is over. And I don’t want it to be over until I’m sure I’ve had enough.” “The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you. It’s the same as going on a vacation. Some people spend all their time on a vacation taking pictures so that when they get home they can show their friends evidence that they had a good time. They don’t pause to let the vacation enter inside of them and take that home.” “Well, I don’t really want to tell you where we’ve been.” “I know,” I answered. Claudia looked at me. “Do you know I don’t want to tell you, or do you know where we’ve been? Which do you mean?” “Both,” I told her quietly.

Happiness is excitement that has found a settling down place, but there is always a little corner that keeps flapping around.

“But, Mrs. Frankweiler, you should want to learn one new thing every day. We did even at the museum.” “No,” I answered, “I don’t agree with that. I think you should learn, of course, and some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up inside of you until it touches everything. And you can feel it inside you. If you never take time out to let that happen, then you just accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you. You can make noise with them, but never really feel anything with them. It’s hollow.”