His mistake , he now believed, had been in trying to make sense of life, to understand it, when all the while there was nothing to understand. (p. 61)

His resolution -- to take no interest in the world and look only on the black side -- were against his nature. Hope to hime was like a worm to a fish, dangle it and he just had to bite (and never mind the hook). Also, the world was simply -- complexly-- such a startling place, so curious and new. He couldn't take his eyes (or ears or nose) off it. No, this bear was caught. (p. 70)

He recalled a true story that Mr Tump [a old and wise teddy bear] had told to illustrate the perplexing business of 'luck'. It concerned a terrible disease called scarlet fever, which a boy had had. In order to destroy the germs, everything was burned: blankets, pillows, books, toys -- everything. Mr Tump, however, escaped this fate because he had been left in the summer-house. (He was there for two whole years.) He had fallen under a bench and been accidentally kicked still further out of sight. That was 'luck', said Mr Tump and thirty years later here he was to tell the tale. Just a little fall and a little kick that would have seemed like bad luck at the time ... that' all it took. (p. 122)

Sadly, by now the bear was sinking into apathy. He'd done his best to keep his spirits up, but it was no use. In earlier times he might have managed better, for in those 'superior' days he'd needed no one but himself. Now his life made little sense when others weren't around to share it. By slow degrees he had become sociable bear. (p. 124)