And my father always took me to the library. We were both book addicts.

Sometimes, when you're so sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry.

We're all liars when it serves our purpose.

So what? All writers are lunatics!

Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar.

I wish you luck,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. He still had the most beautiful eyes of any boy she'd ever seen. But now her heart beat so much faster for someone else.

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.