Ironic," Betty Lou said at last. "The cereus insists on sunlight---that's why it must be at the end of the yard. And yet it saves its flowers for the moon. The sun never sees what it fathers." It takes from the day," I said, "gives to the night.

A baseball bat could not have hit me harder than that smile did. I was sixteen years old. In that time, how many thousands of smiles had been aimed at me? so why did this one feel like the first?

Or maybe you’re merely uncomfortable with uncertainty. Like the rest of the human race.

Usually it takes me about nine to 12 months to write a book.

And smiles to go before I weep, And Smiles to go before I weep.

If I get a new idea today—or any day—I won't run from it. I won't trash it. If it's something I really want to do—I'll do it.

Friendship isn't always sunnyside up.