Down There The Nights Are Bright And

Since When Does The Butterfly Ask About The Caterpillar?

She Read And Read And Read, But She Was Stuffing Herself With The Letters On The Page Like An Unhappy Child Stuffing Itself With Chocolate. They Didn’t Taste Bad, But She Was Still Unhappy.

Stories Never Really End...even If The Books Like To Pretend They Do. Stories Always Go On. They Don't End On The Last Page, Any More Than They Begin On The First Page.

-you Forgot Something Important! -what? -it's Under My Sweater! -what?! -me!

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