There Ain't A Body, Be It Mouse

I Think Of Myself As An Enormously Lucky Person.

I Have Been Loved, Edward Told The Stars. So? Said The Stars. What Difference Does That Make When You Are All Alone Now?

So Here I Am, Sending A Two-ounce Mouse Down Into A Dungeon With A Sewing Needle To Save A Human Princess, And I Don't Know How In The World He's Going To Do It. I Have No Idea. That Was The First Time It Occurred To Me That Writing The Story Was Roughly Equivalent To Despereaux's Descent Into The Dungeon. I Was Tremendously Aware Of That As I Was Writing. I Thought, "i Have To Be Brave Or Else I'm Not Going To Be Able To Tell It." But It's The Only Way That I Can Write. If I Know What's Going To Happen, I'm Not Interested In Telling The Story.

Pea Was Aware Suddenly Of How Fragile Her Heart Was, How Much Darkness Was Inside It, Fighting, Always, With The Light. She Did Not Like The Rat. She Would Neverlike The Rat, But She Knew What She Must Do To Save Her Own Heart.

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.