When I was a girl in Blundermeecen we wondered always if we would see each other again. Each day was uncertain. So, to say good-bye to someone was uncertain, too. Would you see them again? Who could s...
There is nothing worse than war in the summetime.
There is nothing sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name.
Stories are light.
Stories are light.Light is precious in a world so dark.
My name’s Gloria Dump, she said. Ain’t that a terrible last name? Dump? My last name is Buloni, I said. Sometimes the kids at school back home in Watley called me ‘Lunch Meat.’ Hah! Gloria Dump laughe...
Love, as we have already discussed, is a powerful, wonderful, ridiculous thing, capable of moving mountains. And spools of thread.
Louisiana stood up again. She was holding Bunny close to her chest. She faced forward. 'Go faster,' she said.'Are you kidding?' said Beverly. 'Who do you think you are? Some kind of queen? We're pushi...
It was important to me to hear how Littmus survived after losing everything he loved.
It was a singular sensation to be held so gently and yet so fiercely, to be stared down at with so much love.
I intended lilies, said the magician. but in the clutches of a desparate desire to do something extraordinary, I called down a greater magic and inadvertently caused you a profound harm. I will now tr...
I have been loved, Edward told the stars.
I have been loved, Edward told the stars. So? said the stars. What difference does that make when you are all alone now?
Furlough took him on a tour of the castle to demonstrate the art of scurrying.
Do gooders don't interest me. They are the least interesting people on the planet.
Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.
The human heart was dark beyond all reckoning; it also likened the heart to a river. And further, it said, If we are not careful, that river can carry us along in its hidden currents of want and anger...
Situation
She were forced to describe it, she would say that it tasted exactly like squirrel: fuzzy, damp, slightly nutty. Have you lost your
Know to be a safe port in a storm? Flora suddenly remembered her dream, how warm William Spiver’s hand had felt in her own. She blushed. Whom did she trust? Good grief, she trusted William Spiver.