It's a weird kind of disconnect that this whole story [he Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane] grew around a real doll of mine, and here he is, with his "Edward" expression on his face. It's kind of reality bumping into fantasy.

My goal is two pages a day, five days a week. I never want to write, but I'm always glad that I have done it. After I write, I go to work at the bookstore.

The only control you have over a movie is whether or not you decide to sell the rights.

In a dark time, doors will sometimes magically open and let us step inside to the warmth and light of a community.

I read my books out loud to myself because of the demands of the story and demands of language.

Reader, do you think it is a terrible thing to hope when there is really no reason to hope at all? Or is it (as the soldier said about happiness) something that you might just as well do, since,in the end, it really makes no difference to anyone but you?

There ain't no point in making soup unless others eat it. Soup needs another mouth to taste it, another heart to be warmed by it.