And all you can do is just read," she said. She raised her voice an screamed, "You just read and read and read!" Then she threw herself down on the table and wept.

Storms probably exist only because after them we can have a sunrise.

It's funny about love', Sophia said. 'The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.' 'That's very true,' Grandmother observed. 'And so what do you do?' 'You go on loving,' said Sophia threateningly. 'You love harder and harder.

For a while she considered being ill, but she changed her mind.

But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.

I'm not sure I would have ever started to draw, let alone write, if my childhood hadn't been so happy. It was a mixture of comfort and adventure. An excellent mixture!

I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know.