Punch after punch after punch. February is a mean bully. Nothing could be worse - except August.

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.

It was up to him to pay back to the world in beauty and caring what Leslie had loaned him in vision and strength.

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

A library is a feast to which we are all invited.

...One reason I became a writer was that I figured out that if you call yourself a writer, you can read all you want and people think that you are working.

I cannot, will not, withhold from my young readers the harsh realities of human hunger and suffering and loss, but neither will I neglect to plant that stubborn seed of hope that has enabled our race to outlast wars and famines and the destruction of death.