The imagination and the place that dreams come from is so huge and so important. I'm trying to write about the real world, in that I'm trying to write about whatever it is the experience that makes us human, the things that we have in common.

But standing in that hallway, it was all coming back to me. Memories were waiting at the edges of things, beckoning to me.

Children, as I have said, use back ways and hidden paths, while adults take roads and official paths.

Sometimes the best way to learn something is by doing it wrong and looking at what you did.

You know, I'm normally so sanguine. But... being accused of rushing these two books out to cash in on the Newbery Medal, without access to time travel equipment or anything, just makes me want to bang my forehead gently against a tree for half an hour. Is it too much to ask people to think?

The imagination and the place that dreams come from is so huge and so important. I'm trying to write about the real world, in that I'm trying to write about whatever it is the experience that makes us human, the things that we have in common.

Words save our lives, sometimes.