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Especially when one hasn’t any parents who might make themselves uncomfortable on behalf of their children.
“Everyone’s feet hurt, Ed. Don’t complain.”
It is often the case that, at times of great anxiety, when the diversion of a good story should seem most welcome, one is least equipped to focus one’s mind on reading.
The first words of a new book are so delicious—like the first taste of a cookie fresh from the oven and not yet properly cooled.
like odd-looking little girls better than pretty ones. They’re generally far more interesting.
Fibs, you must know, are entirely acceptable when they serve the purpose of getting one to the library.
A librarian seemed a good sort of friend to have.
Somehow, it didn’t feel awkward, the way silences often do. Perhaps librarians are more used to quiet than most.
“I believe it was the poet, Mr. Yeats, who said that the world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper?”
Anna might not have known what to say, but she knew what to do. Which is often the more important thing, as it turns out.
“I think it’s not up to me whether it’s a good idea or not.”
