A kid might help another kid who fell into a river, and a kid might help another kid search for a lost baseball, but there isn't a kid I've met who will help another kid out of a humiliating situation. We just aren't built that way.

But at least this got Mouth thinking about how his loneliness wasn't unique. We all suffered. And I guess we all had good times too. Man - if every person who ever felt lonely killed himself, the world would be littered with corpses. And far lonelier.

Books are growing more honest at a younger age, and the world is becoming less warm and fuzzy. Or at least the monsters are out in the open.

It’s just as easy to lie to yourself as it is to lie to other people. Maybe easier.

Part of the writer's task is to recognize what he's done, then dive back in and make the connections clearer. I'm a strong believer in getting things right the ninth or tenth time.

Let's face it - with a few exceptions, nobody likes anybody.

She never said, "No, don't buy that trash," or "Pick a real book." She knew they were all real books. This is how great a librarian she was. And how great a mom.