I Thought I Was Going Nowhere. Now

I'm Just Doing What I've Done My Whole Life, Which Is Talking To People About Books And Making Them Read. It's What I Do In My Friendships. "here, You Have To Read This, You Have To Read This."

There Are Those Hearts, Reader, That Never Mend Again Once They Are Broken. Or If They Do Mend, They Heal Themselves In A Crooked And Lopsided Way, As If Sewn Together By A Careless Craftsman. Such Was The Fate Of Chiaroscuro. His Heart Was Broken. Picking Up The Spoon And Placing It On His Head, Speaking Of Revenge, These Things Helped Him To Put His Heart Together Again. But It Was, Alas, Put Together Wrong.

I Think That That's Part Of How People Have Responded To The Tiger Rising. It's What I Call My Dark Child. It's Gotten Sandwiched In Between Two Overachieving, Tap-dance-performing Kids - Winn-dixie And Despereaux.

And Hope Is Like Love...a Ridiculous, Wonderful, Powerful Thing.

The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane Began With A Friend Giving Me A Rabbit Doll - Forgive Me, Edward, For Using That Word; He Doesn't Like "doll" - For Christmas. I Said, "oh, He's Lovely, What's His Name?" And She Said, "edward." And A Few Days After I Received The Rabbit, Who Was Dressed Very Handsomely In Edwardian Kind Of Clothes, I Saw Him Stripped Of His Finery And Face Down On The Bottom Of The Ocean Floor. Why? I Don't Know. But That's Where His Story Began In My Head.