My daughter, Anna, is almost 15, and my son, Ben, is almost 10.

When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.

Where did the love come from? What was it made of?

Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name.

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends -- daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored.

Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed paper.

You know what they say: When people start burning books they'll soon burn human beings.