My Children Were All Made From Paper

If You Take A Book With You On A Journey," Mo Had Said When He Put The First One In Her Box, "an Odd Thing Happens: The Book Begins Collecting Your Memories. And Forever After You Have Only To Open That Book To Be Back Where You First Read It. It Will All Come Into Your Mind With The Very First Words: The Sights You Saw In That Place, What It Smelled Like, The Ice Cream You Ate While You Were Reading It... Yes, Books Are Like Flypaper—memories Cling To The Printed Page Better Than Anything Else.

Down There The Nights Are Bright And Nobody Believes In The Devil.

You Know What They Say: When People Start Burning Books They'll Soon Burn Human Beings.

She Always Did Like Tales Of Adventure-stories Full Of Brightness And Darkness. She Could Tell You The Names Of All King Arthur's Knights, And She Knew Everything About Beowulf And Grendel, The Ancient Gods And The Not-quite-so-ancient Heroes. She Liked Pirate Stories, Too, But Most Of All She Loved Books That Had At Least A Knight Or A Dragon Or A Fairy In Them. She Was Always On The Dragon's Side By The Way.

Writing Stories Is A Kind Of Magic, Too.