The Tale of Despereaux

by Kate DiCamillo

“No,” said Despereaux. And this time, he did not whisper the word. “I am not sorry. I will not renounce my actions. I love her. I love the princess.”

Every action, reader, no matter how small, has a consequence.

I LOVE books that talk directly to the reader.

This is the danger of loving: No matter how powerful you are, no matter how many kingdoms you rule, you cannot stop those you love from dying.

“Back to the light,” that was what Gregory whispered to him when he wrapped Despereaux in his napkin and placed him on the tray.

“Kill him even if he’s already dead,” shouted Cook.

“That’s some good sophosy, that is, kill ’em, even if they’s already dead.”

“So?” shouted Cook. “What good will that do us when the rest of him has disappeared into the pantry?” “I don’t know,” said Mig. And she braced herself as Cook advanced upon her, intending to give her a good clout to the ear. “I don’t know.”

Reader, the mouse wept.

“All of you. You asked me to renounce my sins; I ask you to renounce yours. You wronged me. Repent.” “Never,” said the Head Mouse.

“I’ll have to do it myself,” said the mouse. “I will be the knight in shining armor. There is no other way. It has to be me.”

The only good mouse is a dead mouse.

Reader, nothing is sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name. Nothing.