What interests me is what children go through while growing up.

As a child, I disliked books in which children learned to be 'better' children.

In seventh grade...I found a place on the [library]shelf where my book would be if I ever wrote a book, which I doubted.

He was dressed as if everything he wore had come from different stores or from a rummage sale, except that the crease in his trousers was sharp and his shoes were shined.

She was not a slowpoke grownup. She was a girl who could not wait. Life was so interesting she had to find out what happened next.

If you don't see the book you want on the shelves, write it.

Neither the mouse nor the boy was the least bit surprised that each could understand the other. Two creatures who shared a love for motorcycles naturally spoke the same language.