Natalie Babbitt
Natalie Babbitt
Natalie Babbitt is an American writer and illustrator of children's books. For her contributions as a children's writer, she was U.S. nominee for the biennial international Hans Christian Andersen Award in 1982...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionChildren's Author
Date of Birth28 July 1932
CityDayton, OH
CountryUnited States of America
summer dog sorry
the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for.
husband wonderful
I have a wonderful husband, and we have had a great life.
reading ohio drawing
I was born and raised in Ohio. During my childhood, I spent most of my time drawing and reading fairy tales and myths.
children years tennessee
Right after graduation, I married Samuel Fisher Babbitt, an academic administrator. I spent the next ten years in Connecticut, Tennessee, and Washington, D.C., raising our children, Christopher, Tom, and Lucy.
fall trying use
Still-there's no use trying to figure why things fall the way they do. Things just are, and fussing don't bring changes.
fear-of-death
Don't fear death, fear the un-lived life
nice names worn
It'd be nice to have a new name, to start with, one that's not all worn out from being called so much.
long matter everlasting
Life's got to be lived, no matter how long or short. You got to take what comes.
summer fate long-ago
Time is like a wheel. Turning and turning - never stopping. And the woods are the center; the hub of the wheel. It began the first week of summer, a strange and breathless time when accident, or fate, bring lives together. When people are led to do things, they've never done before. On this summer's day, not so very long ago, the wheel set lives in motion in mysterious ways.
love life relationship
Nothing seems interesting when it belongs to you, only when it doesn't.
enough eternity hours
For some, time passes slowly. An hour can seem like an eternity. For others, there was never enough. For Jesse Tuck, it didn't exist.
lonely book reading
in reading ... stories, you can be many different people in many different places, doing things you would never have a chance to do in ordinary life. It's amazing that those twenty-six little marks of the alphabet can arrange themselves on the pages of a book and accomplish all that. Readers are lucky - they will never be bored or lonely.
ocean taken whales
The sea can swallow ships, and it can spit out whales like watermelon seeds. It will take what it wants, and it will keep what it has taken, and you may not take away from it what it does not wish to give.
summer spring sunset
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.