Quotes from famous books, the juvenile/YA edition

See which ones you can identify without resorting to Google.  I promise most, if not all, of these will be from very famous works, at least in the United States:

When I left my office that beautiful spring day, I had no idea what was in store for me.  To begin with, everything was too perfect for anything unusual to happen.  It was one of those days when a man feels good, feels like speaking to his neighbor, is glad to live in a country like ours, and proud of his government.  You know what I mean, one of those rare days when everything is right and nothing is wrong.

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pig-tail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the saber cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white.  I remember him looking round the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards:

Behind them an angry farmer brandished a bamboo pole.  He was a market-gardener, Arain by caste, growing vegetables and flowers for Umballa city, and well Kim knew the breed.

You can't be in London for long without going to the Zoo.  There are some people who begin the Zoo at the beginning, called WAYIN, and walk as quickly as they can past every cage until they get to the one called WAYOUT, but the nicest people go straight to the animal they love the most, and stay there.

"I guess I just wasn't thinking," said Milo.

"PRECISELY," shouted the dog as his alarm went off again.  "Now you know what you must do."

"I'm afraid I don't," admitted Milo, feeling quite stupid.

"Well," continued the watchdog impatiently, "since you got here by not thinking, it seems reasonable to expect that, in order to get out, you must start thinking."  And with that he hopped into the car.

Everybody calls him Fudge.  I feel sorry for him if he's going to grow up with a name like Fudge, but I don't say a word.  It's none of my business.

Fudge is always in my way.  He messes up everything he sees.  And when he gets mad he throws himself flat on the floor and he screams.  And he kicks.  And he bangs his fists.  The only time I really like him is when he's sleeping.  He sucks four fingers on his left hand and makes a slurping noise.

Mr. Quimby smiled and kissed his daughters before he held out a small white paper bag.  "Here, I brought you a little present."  Somehow he did not look as happy as usual.  Maybe he had had a hard day at the office of the van-and-storage company where he worked.

His daughters pounced and opened the bag together.  "Gummybears!" was their joyful cry.  The chewy little bears were the most popular sweet at Glenwood School this fall.  Last spring powdered Jell-O eaten from the package had been the fad.  Mr. Quimby always remembered these things.

If I feel up to it, I'll try to review these as well.