The world is always ending, for someone.

I see libraries and librarians as frontline soldiers in the war against illiteracy and the lack of imagination.

They all do the same things. They may think their sins are original, but for the most part they are petty and repetitive.

He felt her heart beating against his chest. The moment began to transmute, and he wondered if there was something he should do. He wondered if he should kiss her. He wondered if he wanted to kiss her, and he realized that he truly didn't know.

Picking five favorite books is like picking the five body parts you'd most like not to lose.

I liked myths. They weren't adult stories and they weren't children stories. They were better than that. They just were. Adult stories never made sense, and they were slow to start. They made me feel like there were secrets, Masonic, mythic secrets, to adulthood. Why didn't adults want to read about Narnia, about secret islands and smugglers and dangerous fairies?

Sometimes I think that ideas float through the atmosphere like huge squishy pumpkins, waiting for heads to drop on.