I Didn't Start Out Writing To Give

When I Was In The First Grade I Was Afraid Of The Teacher And Had A Miserable Time In The Reading Circle, A Difficulty That Was Overcome By The Loving Patience Of My Second Grade Teacher. Even Though I Could Read, I Refused To Do So.

I Don't Necessarily Start With The Beginning Of The Book. I Just Start With The Part Of The Story That's Most Vivid In My Imagination And Work Forward And Backward From There.

He Was Dressed As If Everything He Wore Had Come From Different Stores Or From A Rummage Sale, Except That The Crease In His Trousers Was Sharp And His Shoes Were Shined.

The Humiliation That Jane Had Felt Turned To Something Else--grief Perhaps, Or Regret. Regret That She Had Not Known How To Act With A Boy, Regret That She Had Not Been Wiser.

I Had A Bad Time In School In The First Grade. Because I Had Been A Rather Lonely Child On A Farm, But I Was Free And Wild And To Be Shut Up In A Classroom - There Were 40 Children On Those Days In The Classroom, And It Was Quite A Shock.