I Think I'm Just Breathing,

Very Slowly He Turned His Head Back To Look At Shmuel, Who Wasn't Crying Anymore, Merely Staring At The Floor And Looking As If He Was Trying To Convince His Soul Not To Live Inside His Tiny Body Anymore, But To Slip Away And Sail To The Door And Rise Up Into The Sky, Gliding Through The Clouds Until It Was Very Far Away.'' -the Boy In The Striped Pajamas

The People I See From My Window. In The Huts, In The Distance. They're All Dressed The Same.' 'ah, Those People,' Said Father, Nodding His Head And Smiling Slightly. 'those People...well, They're Not People At All, Bruno.' Bruno Frowned. 'they're Not?' He Asked, Unsure What Father Meant By That.

(j)ust Because Your Version Of Normal Isn't The Same As Someone Else's Version Doesn't Mean That There's Anything Wrong With You.

I Hope For So Much From Every Book I Read. And Time And Again, I Find Myself Disappointed. I Look Across My Bookshelves And See Hundreds Of Titles Which In My Memory Seem Merely Mediocre Or Second-rate. Only Occasionally Does A Novel Appear For Which I Feel A Lasting Passion, A Book That I Think Could In Time Become A Classic.

With The Adult Ones, I Feel I Need To Get As Deep Inside The Psychology Of A Character As I Can, And That Needs To Be First-person. In The Children's Books, I Feel I Need Some Distance. I Don't Want To Be The Nine-year-old At The Center Of The Story. I Need To Have Some Type Of Narrative Voice.