[Writers] are feared by every tyrant — who shows his fear by burning the books and destroying the individuals. - E.B. White

...all his thoughts were of how lucky he was to inhabit such a beautiful earth, how lucky he had been to solve his problems with music, and how pleasant it was to look forward to another night of sleep and another day tomorrow, and the fresh morning, and the light that returns with the day.

Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. The song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy, Wilbur — this lovely world, these precious days…

Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people — people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.