The Phantom Tollbooth Quotes
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Words and numbers are of equal value, for, in the cloak of knowledge, one is warp and the other woof. It is no more important to count the sands than it is to name the stars. — To read all its wit and wisdom, get a copy from a local bookstore or library.
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"Then each of you agrees that he will disagree with whatever each of you agrees with," said Milo triumphantly; "and if you both disagree with the same thing, then aren't you really in agreement?"

"I'VE BEEN TRICKED!" cried the Mathemagician, for no matter how he figured, it came out just that way.
"My goodness," thought Milo, "everybody is so terribly sensitive about the things they know best."
Milo tried very hard to understand all the things he'd been told, and all the things he'd seen, and, as he spoke, one curious thing still bothered him.

"Why is it," he said quietly, "that quite often even the things which are correct just don't seem to be right?"
The Mathemagician nodded knowingly and stroked his chin several times. "You'll find," he remarked gently, "that the only thing you can do easily is be wrong, and that's hardly worth the effort."
"Everyone here knows so much more than I do," thought Milo as he leaped from step to step. "I'll have to do a lot better if I'm going to rescue the princesses."
"It's very much like you’re trying to reach Infinity. You know that it's there, but you just don't know where—but just because you can never reach it doesn't mean that it's not worth looking for."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," said Milo, starting down the stairs. "I think I'll go back now."
"But that can never be," said Milo, jumping to his feet.

"Don't be too sure," said the child patiently, "for one of the nicest things about mathematics, or anything else you might care to learn, is that many of the things which can never be, often are.”
"But averages aren't real," objected Milo.

"That may be so," he agreed, "but they're also very useful at times. For instance, if you didn't have any money at all, but you happened to be with four other people who had ten dollars apiece, then you'd each have an average of eight dollars.“
"Oh, we're just the average family," he said thoughtfully; "mother, father, and 2.58 children—and, as I explained, I'm the .58."

"It must be rather odd being only part of a person," Milo remarked.

"Not at all. Every average family has 2.58 children, so I always have someone to play with.”
Milo sitting on a step, looking at and talking to .58 of a boy, split vertically down the (almost) center
Milo struggled on for a while longer, until at last, completely exhausted, he collapsed onto one of the steps.

"I should have known it," he mumbled, resting his tired legs and filling his lungs with air. "This is just like the line that goes on forever, and I'll never get there."
Milo climbing an interminable staircase
"Just follow that line forever," said the Mathemagician, "and when you reach the end, turn left. There you'll find the land of Infinity, where the tallest, the shortest, the biggest, the smallest, and the most and the least of everything are kept."

"I really don't have that much time," said Milo
“Now add one again. Now add one again. Now add—"
"But when can I stop?" pleaded Milo.
"Never," said the Mathemagician with a smile, "for the number you want is always at least one more than the number you've got, and it's so large that if you started saying it yesterday you wouldn't finish tomorrow"
"What's the greatest number you can think of?"

"Nine trillion, nine hundred ninety-nine billion, nine hundred ninety-nine million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine," recited Milo breathlessly.

"Very good," said the Mathemagician. "Now add one to it.”
"No, that's not what I mean," objected Milo. "Can you show me the longest number there is?"

"Surely," said the Mathemagician, opening another door. "Here it is. It took three carts to carry it here."

Inside this closet was the longest 8 imaginable. It was just about as wide as the three was high.
A very long, wide eight
"Can you show me the biggest number there is?"

"I'd be delighted," he replied, opening one of the closet doors. "We keep it right here. It took four miners just to dig it out."

Inside was the biggest 3 Milo had ever seen. It was fully twice as high as the Mathemagician.
A very tall three
"There's nothing to it," he said, "if you have a magic staff."

"But it's only a big pencil," the Humbug objected, tapping at it with his cane.

"True enough," agreed the Mathemagician; "but once you learn to use it, there's no end to what you can do."
"Most of the time I take the shortest distance between any two points. And, of course, when I should be in several places at once," he remarked, writing 7 x 1 = 7 carefully on the note pad, "I simply multiply."

Suddenly there were seven Mathemagicians standing side by side.
"I often find," the Mathemagician casually explained to his dazed visitors, "that the best way to get from one place to another is to erase everything and begin again. Please make yourself at home."
"I think I'm starving."

"Me, too," complained Milo, whose stomach felt as empty as he could ever remember; "and I ate so much."

"Yes, it was delicious, wasn't it?" agreed the pleased Dodecahedron, wiping the gravy from several of his mouths. "It's the specialty of the kingdom-subtraction stew."
"Don't stop now," he insisted, serving them again,
and again,
and again,
and again,
and again,

"How very strange," thought Milo as he finished his seventh helping. "Each one I eat makes me a little hungrier than the one before."
He returned them as carefully as possible but, as he did, one dropped to the floor with a smash and broke in two. The Humbug winced and Milo looked terribly concerned.

"Oh, don't worry about that," said the Mathemagician as he scooped up the pieces. "We use the broken ones for fractions."
The Mathemagician. He’s wearing a robe and tall pointed hat, both completely covered in mathematical formulas and expressions. He’s holding a long, thin staff shaped like a pencil, with a pointy end and an eraser end
He pulled out a small object, which he polished vigorously on his robe. When he held it up to the light, it sparkled brightly.

"But that's a five," objected Milo, for that was certainly what it was.

"Exactly," agreed the Mathemagician; "as valuable a jewel as you'll find anywhere.“
The mathematician—a bearded man in a robe and pointy had, both all covered in mathematical expressions, holding a long staff shaped like a pencil—speaks excitedly to Milo and Tock. They’re all standing inside a mine.
“And how could you do anything at long last," he concluded, waving his arms over his head, "without knowing how long the last was? Why, numbers are the most beautiful and valuable things in the world. Just follow me and I'll show you."
"If you had high hopes, how would you know how high they were? And did you know that narrow escapes come in all different widths? Would you travel the whole wide world without ever knowing how wide it was?”
"NOT IMPORTANT!" roared the Dodecahedron, turning red with fury. "Could you have tea for two without the two—or three blind mice without the three? Would there be four corners of the earth if there weren't a four? And how would you sail the seven seas without a seven?"