Your dreams are your spirit, your soul, and without them you are dead.

Both sides so blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see they were all fighting for the same thing.

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.

Go and play. Run around. Build something. Break something. Climb a tree. Get dirty. Get in some trouble. Have some fun.

Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused. Is that not why you are here? Did Peter not save you?

There's a reason why we're born with brains in our heads, not rocks.

Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.