We thought we had such problems. How were we to know we were happy?

Genres aren't closed boxes. Stuff flows back and forth across the borders all the time.

Inside the peach, there is a stone.

It's evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.

Reading and writing, like everything else, improve with practice. And, of course, if there are no young readers and writers, there will shortly be no older ones. Literacy will be dead, and democracy - which many believe goes hand in hand with it - will be dead as well.

I've never understood why people consider youth a time of freedom and joy. It's probably because they have forgotten their own.

Snowman wakes before dawn.