Beauty And Fear Make Uneasy Companions

All Books Are In Safe Hands With Me. They're My Children, My Inky Children, And I Look After Them Well. I Keep The Sunlight Away From Their Pages, I Dust And Protect Them From Hungry Hookworms And Grubby Human Fingers.

If I Was A Book, I Would Like To Be A Library Book, So I Would Be Taken Home By All Different Sorts Of Kids.

You Really Don't Understand The First Thing About Writing...for One Thing, Early In The Morning Is The Worst Possible Time. The Brain Is Like A Wet Sponge At That Hour. And For Another, Real Writing Is A Question Of Staring Into Space And Waiting For The Right Ideas.

Where Did The Love Come From? What Was It Made Of?

When The Heart Craved Something So Forcefully, Then Reason Became Nothing But Helpless Observer.