Experiment is the mother of knowledge.

We human beings grow through our failures, not our virtues.

That's a sure way to tell about somebody--the way they play, or don't play, make-believe.

The joys of love...last only a moment. The sorrows of love last all the life long.

You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.

The images were gone, but Calvin was there, was with her, was part of her. She had moved beyond knowing him in sensory images to that place which is beyond images. Now she was kything Calvin, not red hair, or freckles, or eager blue eyes, or the glowing smile; nor was she hearing the deep voice with the occasional treble cracking; not any of this, but - Calvin. She was with Calvin, kything with every atom of her being, returning to him all the fortitude and endurance and hope which he had given her.

The creative impulse can be killed, but it cannot be taught. What a teacher can do... in working with children, is to give the flame enough oxygen so that it can burn. As far as I'm concerned, this providing of oxygen is one of the noblest of all vocations.