But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it was power. The power to think my own thoughts. The power to believe in myself.

The more you feel, the stronger you are.

That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.

I don't think I make much of a distinction between the 'real' and the 'fantastic.' They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I'm concerned.

At midnight the wind in the tress can sound like the ocean. The moonlight can make a road appear as endless as the sea.

The weak are cruel. The strong have no need to be.

Others said May was best, that sweet green time when lilacs bloomed and gardens along Main Street were filled with sugary pink peonies and Dutch tulips.