Believe, Believe, Believe

Mo Could Paint Pictures In The Empty Air With His Voice Alone.

Second, There Are So Many Magical Places In Books That You Cant Go To, Like Hogwarts And Middle Earth, So I Wanted To Set A Story In A Place Where Children Can Actually Go.

A Book Always Keeps Something Of Its Owner Between Its Pages.

The Tent In Which She First Met Him Had Smelled Of Blood, Of The Death She Did Not Understand, And Still She Had Thought Of It All As A Game. She Had Promised Him The World. His Flesh In The Flesh Of His Enemies. And Much Too Late Had She Realized What He Had Sown In Her. Love. Worst Of All Poisons.

The World Was A Terrible Place, Cruel, Pitiless, Dark As A Bad Dream. Not A Good Place To Live. Only In Books Could You Find Pity, Comfort, Happiness - And Love. Books Loved Anyone Who Opened Them, They Gave You Security And Friendship And Didn't Ask Anything In Return; They Never Went Away, Never, Not Even When You Treated Them Badly.