We live in times that are in many ways ambiguous. Maybe that's why kids want precision in what they read - they don't like that moral ambiguity.

His mind reeled. Now, empowered to ask questions of utmost rudeness-and promised answers-he could, conceivably (though it was almost unimaginable), ask someone, some adult, his father perhaps: "Do you lie?" But he would have no way of knowing if the answer he received was true.

Once she read a book but found it distasteful because it contained adjectives.

Time goes on, and your life is still there, and you have to live it. After a while you remember the good things more often than the bad. Then, gradually, the empty silent parts of you fill up with sounds of talking and laughter again, and the jagged edges of sadness are softened by memories.

It is much easier to be brave if you do not know everything.

It be better, I think, to climb out in search of something, instead of hating, what you're leaving.

I was a sidelines child: never class president, never team captain, never the one with the most valentines in my box.