He says that hope is a very, very fragile thing and that when you steal it from someone, it can be like stealing their soul. He's convinced that taking away hope is much worse than giving someone the truth, and that those were the alternatives he was forced to choose between.
Often, when people ask me what I read as a young girl, I lie. Or, I should say, I lie by omission. I tell them about my brilliant fourth-grade teacher, Miss Artis, who assigned us 'Johnny Tremain' and 'Where the Red Fern Grows' and 'Tuck Everlasting,' all books that made an impression on me. And people nod in approval.
