Friar Hugo, old friend, brace yourself. I am the bearer of tragic news!" Alarm spread across Hugo's pudgy features. "Tell me, Jess. What dreadful thing has happened?" Jess spoke haltingly in a broken voice. "I fear that Cluny has tore up one of your oldest and most venerable dishrags. Alas, Redwall will never see it wipe another plate.

Imagination is a gift given to us from God and each one of us use it differently.

It's a long hard road ahead for you, little warrior. Enjoy a happy day while you can. —Boldred

All little creatures are beautiful...every living thing when it first sees life is born in beauty. What they grow to be is a different matter.

We could have chopped down the sycamore with this.

A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.

I wrote about a bird that cleaned a crocodile's teeth. The story was so good that my teacher could not believe that a ten-year-old could write that well. I was even punished because my teacher thought I'd lied about writing it! I had always loved to write, but it was then that I realized that I had a talent for it.