Like all great fantasists, he has taught me about life, life in eternity rather than chronology, life in that time in which we are real.

In our dreams we are able to fly . . . and that is a remembering of how we were meant to be.

When I am grappling with ideas which are radical enough to upset grown-ups, then I am likely to put these ideas into a story which will be marketed for children, because children understand what their parents have rejected and forgotten.

But where, after we have made the great decision to leave the security of childhood and move on into the vastness of maturity, does anybody ever feel completely at home?

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.

Itt iss Eevill…" "What is going to happen?" "Wee wwill cconnttinnue tto ffightt!"… "And we’re not alone, you know, children," came Mrs.Whatsit, the comforter. "…some of the best fighters have come from your own planet…" "Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked. "Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs.Whatsit said. Mrs.Who’s spectacles shone out at them triumphantly. "And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

I don't understand it any more than you do, but one thing I've learned is that you don't have to understand things for them to be.