...those of us who write for children are called, not to do something to a child, but be someone for a child.

He may not have been born with guts, but he didn't have to die without them.

Church always seemed the same. Jess could tune it out the same way he tuned out school, with his body standing up and sitting down in unison with the rest of the congregation but his mind numb and floating, not really thinking or dreaming but at least free.

Kids often ask me if characters are real or made up - and I always tell them, 'I hope they're real but I made them up.'

Words are humanity's greatest natural resource, but most of us have trouble figuring out how to put them together. Words aren't cheap. They are very precious. They are like water, which gives life and growth and refreshment, but because it has always been abundant, we treat it cheaply. We waste it; we pollute it, and doctor it. Later we blame the quality of the water because we have misused it.

As much pleasure as young people get from Twittering and texting, there is no way these activities will nourish their minds and spirits the way literature can.

We book people are always preaching about reading aloud to children, but unless you do, you can't realize how it enriches family life.