As Elmore Leonard Says, I Write To

I Think, Oh My God, Kids Are Reading, And They Care About A Book Enough To Come Over And Talk To Me About A Book That They Care About. If I Think About It As Being A Celebrity, It Would Freak Me Out. But I Just Think, Lucky Me, That I Get To Be A Part Of This Whole Thing.

Nobody Ever Learns Anything.

There's A Buddhist Precept That The Only Thing You Deserve Is The Chance To Do The Work, And I've Been Given The Chance To Do The Work.

Don't Drop Him," Said Peter's Mother To His Father. "don't You Dare Drop Him." She Was Laughing. "i Will Not," Said His Father. "i Could Not." For He Is Peter Augustus Duchene, And He Will Always Return To Me. Again And Again, Peter's Father Threw Him Up In The Air. Again And Again, Peter Felt Himself Suspended In Nothingness For A Moment, Just A Moment, And Then He Was Pulled Back, Returned To The Sweetness Of The Earth And The Warmth Of His Father's Waiting Arms. "see?" Said His Father To His Mother. "do You See How He Always Comes Back To Me?

There Are Those Hearts, Reader, That Never Mend Again Once They Are Broken. Or If They Do Mend, They Heal Themselves In A Crooked And Lopsided Way, As If Sewn Together By A Careless Craftsman. Such Was The Fate Of Chiaroscuro. His Heart Was Broken. Picking Up The Spoon And Placing It On His Head, Speaking Of Revenge, These Things Helped Him To Put His Heart Together Again. But It Was, Alas, Put Together Wrong.