Go Home And Read To Your Adult.

Take This Squirrel, For Instance. Ulysses. Do I Believe He Can Type Poetry? Sure, I Do Believe It. There Is Much More Beauty In The World If I Believe Such A Thing Is Possible.

It Is Important That You Say What You Mean To Say. Time Is Too Short. You Must Speak The Words That Matter.

The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane Began With A Friend Giving Me A Rabbit Doll - Forgive Me, Edward, For Using That Word; He Doesn't Like "doll" - For Christmas. I Said, "oh, He's Lovely, What's His Name?" And She Said, "edward." And A Few Days After I Received The Rabbit, Who Was Dressed Very Handsomely In Edwardian Kind Of Clothes, I Saw Him Stripped Of His Finery And Face Down On The Bottom Of The Ocean Floor. Why? I Don't Know. But That's Where His Story Began In My Head.

A Typical Day For Me Is I Get Up At 6:00, The Coffeemaker Goes On Automatically And The Computer Gets Turned On. I Pour A Cup Of Coffee, Listen To Garrison Keillor's The Writer's Almanac, And Then I Write.

Besides, Who Ever Asked You What You Wanted In This World, Girl? The Answer To That Question, Reader, As You Well Know, Was Absolutely No One.