Each day Roald Dahl sat in his mother’s old armchair next to a low table upon which was arranged small personal objects that formed a landscape through which his thoughts could roam. He would sharpen six pencils and then begin to write on lined foolscap pads of yellow paper. On another table stood a black desk lamp draped with a flannel which kept it at the perfect angle over his home-made green baize writing board. An old eiderdown (a bed covering placed on top of sheets and blankets that is filled with small soft feathers or warm material) covered his legs. A shabby suitcase had been nailed to the floor so that he could press against it to ease the pain in his back.
Behind a small brown cushion at the base of the chair back I discovered a roughly cut hole which one day in desperation he had made to alleviate (make pain or suffering less intense or severe) the pressure of abscesses (a painful swelling containing pus) which formed on his spine.
In my mind I went down that dark hole to search for clues that might have triggered his thoughts. I imagined his spinal column as a fuel pipe to his brain which was the engine that drove his powers of invention.

Adapted from: Roald Dahl Treasury-The Hut by Ralph Steadman

At this point, a lady with an ENORMOUS chest (they didn’t exactly capitalize it in the book, but… you know…hehe) and flaming orange hair came flying out of the house screaming,”My jewels! Somebody’s stolen my jewels! My diamond tiara! My diamond necklace! My diamond bracelets! My diamond earrings! My diamond rings! They’ve had the lot! My rooms have been ransacked!”
And then this massive female, who fifty-five years ago had been a world-famous opera-singer, suddenly burst into song.
“My diamonds are over the ocean, my diamonds are over the sea, my diamonds were pinched from my bedroom, oh, bring back my diamonds to me.”
We were so bowled over by the power of the lady’s lungs that all of us, excepting the Pelican, who had to keep his beak closed, joined in the chorus.
“Bring back, bring back, oh, bring back my diamonds to me, to me. Bring back, bring back, oh, bring back my diamonds to me!”

Adapted from: The Roald Dahl Treasury-The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me by Roald Dahl

The moment the Duke popped one of the Scarlet Scorchdroppers into his mouth, thick smoke came gushing out of the old boy’s nostrils in such quantities that I thought his moustaches were going up in flames.

Adapted from: The Roald Dahl Treasury-The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me by Roald Dahl

The two hooded black eyes of the turtle peered up at the boy. The eyes were bright and lively, full of the wisdom of great age. The boy looked back at the turtle, and his time when he spoke, his voice was soft and intimate. “Goodbye, old man,” he said. “Go far away this time.” The black eyes remained resting on the boy for a few seconds more.
Nobody moved. Then, with great dignity, the massive beast turned away and began waddling toward the edge of the ocean. He didn’t hurry. He moved sedately over the sandy beach, the big shell rocking gently from side to side as he went.
Soon, he was swimming. He was in his element now. He swam gracefully and very fast, with the head held high. The sea was calm, and he made little waves that fanned out behind him on both sides, like the waves of a boat. It was several minutes before we lost sight of him, and by then he was half-way to the horizon.

Adapted from: The Roald Dahl Treasury-The Boy Who Talked with Animals from The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar by Roald Dahl

There is a man who has a fierce but friendly smile on his face. When he smiles, he looks like the most amiable man the world has ever seen. Sometimes, he furrows his eyebrows and sticks his inhaler into his nostril as mathematical calculations run through his head while he tries to figure out sums. When he is in a good mood, you can see that look on his face that seems to say “Let’s horse around!”. He is my father.

By Xin Hui XD