He looked at the piles of food again, and it was like he was seeing it with new … - Margaret Haddix

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I have no personal system of philosophy. I never attempt to do that. I am merely a man of letters.

Margaret Haddix

He looked at the piles of food again, and it was like he was seeing it with new eyes. "This is wrong", he thought, "Letting food rot while people die of hunger. It's evil. ". . . . He breathed in the too-sweet smell of rotting food, "I can stop this evil.

Die, Eye, Hunger, Piles, Smell, Sweet

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I want to Live! Not Die, Not Hide, LIVE!

Die, Dies, Hide, Life, Live, Want

I rise up on my tiptoes. He's already bending his head down, moving his lips toward mine. And then, well, I haven't exactly studied this, but I'm pretty sure that ours is not the most expert kiss in Sualan history. It's a little hard to figure out how we should tilt our heads so our noses don't bump. But this kiss is a promise, a vow. Come to think of it, it doesn't really matter that ours is not the most expert kiss in Sualan history. It's still the best.

Kissing, Moving, Pretty, Promise, Think, Thinking

The sudden silence is horrifying, and it seems to catch my mother off guard. A tiny whimper escapes her, the sound amplified in the stillness. Surely, my father hears her now; surely he and I can't go on pretending she isn't crying.

Crying, Father, Mother, Pretending, Silence, Sound

The deadlines are much, much longer with books. When I was a reporter, a lot of times I'd come in at 8:30 a. m. , get an assignment right away, interview somebody, turn the story in by 9:30, and have the finished story in the paper that landed on my desk by noon.

Book, Books, Come, Deadlines, Noon, Stories

That porch is a happy-looking place, and my father - burdened, stoop-shouldered, cadaverously thin - doesn't seem to belong on it.

Belong, Cadaverously, Father, Porch, Stoops