What Happened Was No Accident. Everything Was

There Are 500 Reasons I Write For Children.... Children Read Books, Not Reviews. They Don't Give A Hoot About The Critics.... They Don't Read To Free Themselves Of Guilt, To Quench Their Thirst For Rebellion, Or To Get Rid Of Alienation. They Still Believe In God, The Family, Angels, Devils, Witches, Goblins, Logic, Clarity, Punctuation, And Other Such Obsolete Stuff.... They Don't Expect Their Beloved Writer To Redeem Humanity. Young As They Are, They Know That It Is Not In His Power. Only The Adults Have Such Childish Illusions.

Some Of My Cronies Call Me A Pessimist And A Decadent, But There Is Always A Background Of Faith Behind Resignation.

God Gave Us So Many Emotions, And So Many Strong Ones. Every Human Being, Even If He Is An Idiot, Is A Millionaire In Emotions.

Each Soul Must Accomplish Its Task, Or It Would Not Have Been Sent Here.

But My Gloom Did Not Lessen. I Knew That I'd Had A Bad Dream, And I Stood In The Dark Trying To Recollect It. The Second I Closed My Eyes, I Was With The Dead. They Did Things Words Cannot Express. They Spoke Madness. ("hanka")