Read to your children Twenty minutes a day; You have the time, And so do they. Read while the laundry is in the machine; Read while the dinner cooks; Tuck a child in the crook of your arm And reach for the library books. Hide the remote, Let the computer games cool, For one day your children will be off to school; Remedial? Gifted? You have the choice; Let them hear their first tales In the sound of your voice. Read in the morning; Read over noon; Read by the light of Goodnight Moon. Turn the pages together, Sitting close as you'll fit, Till a small voice beside you says, "Hey, don't quit.

But put two librarians' heads together, and mountains move.

Never trust an ugly woman. She's got a grudge against the world,' said Grandma who was no oil painting herself.

I'm so far gone that I'm telling the truth. It sounds like a foreign language.

This is how you hold onto your family. You hold them with open hands so they are free to find futures of their own. It's just that simple.

Humor is anger that was sent to finishing school.

Grandma, how old is she?" "Oh I don't know." Grandma said. "You'd have to cut off her head and count the rings in her neck.