We're Animals. We're Violent. We're Criminal. We're

I Adored Mickey Mouse When I Was A Child. He Was The Emblem Of Happiness And Funniness.

A Book Is Really Like A Lover. It Arranges Itself In Your Life In A Way That Is Beautiful. Even As A Kid, My Sister, Who Was The Eldest, Brought Books Home For Me, And I Think I Spent More Time Sniffing And Touching Them Than Reading. I Just Remember The Joy Of The Book, The Beauty Of The Binding. The Smelling Of The Interior. Happy.

I Remember My Own Childhood Vividly...i Knew Terrible Things. But I Knew I Mustn't Let Adults Know I Knew. It Would Scare Them

Once A Little Boy Sent Me A Charming Card With A Little Drawing On It. I Loved It. I Answer All My Children’s Letters — Sometimes Very Hastily — But This One I Lingered Over. I Sent Him A Card And I Drew A Picture Of A Wild Thing On It. I Wrote, “dear Jim: I Loved Your Card.” Then I Got A Letter Back From His Mother And She Said, “jim Loved Your Card So Much He Ate It.” That To Me Was One Of The Highest Compliments I’ve Ever Received. He Didn’t Care That It Was An Original Maurice Sendak Drawing Or Anything. He Saw It, He Loved It, He Ate It.

There Is No Such Thing As Fantasy Unrelated To Reality