You think it's so great to die and make everyone cry and carry on. Well it ain't.

Sitting in cold wet britches for an hour was no fun even in a magic kingdom.

I realize, of course, that I wasn't born knowing how to read. I just can't imagine a time when I didn't know how.

I'm sure my first nine years have had a powerful influence on the kind of books I write.

What I really want to do is to write a hilarious farce.

the reason God made February short a few days was because he knew that by the time people came to the end of it they would die if they had to stand one more blasted day.

I think, she began quietly, I think we want... not just bread for our bellies. We want more than only bread. We want food for our hearts, our souls. We want- how to say it? We want, you know- Puccini music.... we want for our beautiful children some beauty. She leaned over and kissed the curl on her finger. We want roses.