Quotes from Kate DiCamillo

Allow me to congratulate you on your very astute powers of observation.

He] had the soul of a poet, and because of this, he liked very much to consider questions that had no answers.

Everything, as you well know . . . cannot always be sweetness and light.

Do you know what it means to be emphatic? I will tell you: It means that when you are being forcibly taken to a dungeon, when you have a large knife at your back, when you are trying to be brave, you are able, still, to think for a moment of the person who is holding the knife.

Longing is not always a reciprocal thing.

In a dark time, doors will sometimes magically open and let us step inside to the warmth and light of a community.

I lay there and thought how life was like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad were all mixed up together and how hard it was to separate them out. It was confusing.

The undoing is almost always more difficult than the doing.

That was the thing about tragedy. It was just sitting there, keeping you company, waiting. And you had absolutely no idea.

I believe, sometimes, that the whole world has an aching heart. - Gloria Dump

There is a lot of love in him, a lot of love in his heart... And he is up there with no one and nothing to love. It is a bad thing to have love and no where to put it.

During the night, while Bull and Lucy slept, Edward, with ever-open eyes, stared up at the constellations. He said their names, and then he said the names of the people who loved him. He started with Abilene, and then went on to Nellie and Lawrence and from there to Bull and Lucy, and then he ended again with Abilene: Abilene, Nellie, Lawrence, Bull, Lucy, Abilene. See? Edward told Pellegrina. I am not like the princess. I know about love.

Bah, cynics, said Dr. Meescham. Cynics are people who are afraid to believe.

But in truth,' said Bull, 'we are going nowhere. That my friend, is the irony of our constant movement.

How can you make a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes.

It occurred to her that nobody really knew what anybody else was upset about, and that seemed like a terrible thing.

My heart, thought Edward, my heart is broken.

Reader, you may ask this question; in fact, you must ask this question: Is it ridiculous for a very small, sickly, big-eared mouse to fall in love with a beautiful princess named Pea? The answer is . . . yes. Of course, it's ridiculous. Love is ridiculous. But love is also wonderful. And powerful.

There ain't no point in making soup unless others eat it. Soup needs another mouth to taste it, another heart to be warmed by it.

Holy unanticipated occurrences!

Who can say what astonishments are hidden inside the most mundane being?

When you are a king, you may make as many ridiculous laws as you like. That is what being a king is all about.

And he discovered, finally, the source of the honey-sweet sound. The sound was music. The sound was King Phillip playing his guitar and singing for his daughter, the Princess Pea, every night before she fell asleep. Hidden in a hole in the wall of the princess's bedroom, the mouse listened with all his heart. The sound of the King's music made Despereaux's soul grow large and light inside of him. Oh, he said, it sounds like heaven. It smells like honey.

At the thought of being eaten by rats, Despereaux forgot about being brave. He forgot about not being a disappointment. He felt himself heading into another faint. But his mother, who had an excellent sense of dramatic timing, beat him to it; she executed a beautiful, flawless swoon, landing right at Despereaux's feet.