I remember my fourth grade teacher reading 'Charlotte's Web' and 'Stuart Little' to us - both, of course, by E. B. White. His stories were genuinely funny, thought provoking and full of irony and charm. He didn't condescend to his readers, which was why I liked his books, and why I wasn't a big reader of other children's' books.

You make the decision: Whom did God punish?

Not everyone is as nice as us.

In a way, it made him sad. He couldn't help but think that a hundred times zero was still nothing.

He could hardly lift his spoon during breakfast, and then he was out on the lake, his spoon soon replaced by a shovel.

Part of me becomes the characters I'm writing about. I think readers feel like they are there, the way I am, as a result.

Wayside school is falling down, falling down, falling down, Wayside school is falling down my fair lady. Kids go splat as they hit the ground, hit the ground, hit the ground, Kids go splat as the hit the ground my fair lady . Broken bones and blood and gore, blood and gore, blood and gore, Broken bones and blood and gore my fair lady. We don't have to go to school no more, school no more, school no more, We don't have to go to school no more my fair lady.