Children Quote by Caroline Pratt

“He figured that all the threads of his experience would eventually be sewn together, taking shape in harmony and form to create a glorious…

— Adriana Trigiani

“This hand, it is mine, yet when I pick up a pencil it has a mind of its own. It has a story to…

— Susan L. Marshall

“His soul's fabric was weaving itself with mine. I loved the frayed ends where it came unraveled, and I loved the strength at its…

— Jeri Smith-Ready

“Writing is not only a reflection of what one thinks and feels but a rope one weaves with words that can lower you below…

— Phyllis Theroux

“I got through so much ink in the learning that the inkseller took to knocking at least once a week on the garden door.…

— Sally Gardner

“He tossed a word like a ball, never letting it fall. Instead it swam in the air, without care, strung together with an art…

— David Paul Kirkpatrick

“Something new and unexpected, something hitherto unknown and undreamt of, had taken place in him. He did not so much understand with his mind…

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“I studied him the way I studied all the people in my life, noticing the changes of his mood, the times when the edge…

— Roland Merullo

“He wanted, in short, a work of art both for what it was in itself and for what it allowed him to bestow on…

— Joris-Karl Huysmans

“In his comfortable coffin, face veiled in dark silk, eyes open or closed, Pan Loudermilk lies waiting, a player from a tribe never stilled…

— Kathe Koja

“He had always loved to draw and paint, begging to be bought pencils, paint boxes, and paper rather than toys, spending hours wrapped up…

— Philip Norman

“He smiles and shakes his head, a smile that’s bewildered and content and still pursed by that same tender sadness that visited him by…

— Dane Huckelbridge