February Is Just Plain Malicious. It Knows

I Cannot, Will Not, Withhold From My Young Readers The Harsh Realities Of Human Hunger And Suffering And Loss, But Neither Will I Neglect To Plant That Stubborn Seed Of Hope That Has Enabled Our Race To Outlast Wars And Famines And The Destruction Of Death.

If We Marvel At The Artist Who Has Written A Great Book, We Must Marvel More At Those People Whose Lives Are Works Of Art And Who Don't Even Know It, Who Wouldn't Believe It If They Were Told. However Hard Work Good Writing May Be, It Is Easier Than Good Living.

Sitting In Cold Wet Britches For An Hour Was No Fun Even In A Magic Kingdom.

I Woke Up One Morning And Realized That What I Wanted To Say To Everyone - Children, Young People, Adults - Was: Read For Your Life.

The World That Is In Me Is The Only World I Have By Which To Grasp The World Outside And As I Write Fiction, It Is The Chart By Which I Must Steer.