When little ones say they want to go home, they almost never mean it. They mean they are tired of this particular game and would like to start another.

Most of them... most of us never figure it out. Bad dream, they think, or good one. Funny rash, never really goes away, but Doc says it's fine, nothing to worry about. Why dwell on it? But some people, they just can't let it go... Some people drink themselves out of school trying to find it again, trolling through bars where the shadows are so greasy they leave trails on the walls, just to find a way in, a way through. Some people forget too that you're supposed to stop sleeping, you're supposed to have a life in the sun.

We all have someone we think shines so much more than we do that we are not even a moon to their sun, but a dead little rock floating in space next to their gold and their blaze.

This is what comes of having a heart, even a very small and young one. It causes no end of trouble, and that’s the truth.

Readers will always insist on adventures, and though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.

One of the many quotes on love..."Love can come only with time and sentience. We learn it as we learn language--and some never learn it well. Love is like a tool, though it is not a tool; something strange and wonderful to use, difficult to master, and mysterious in its provenance.

You're not in love if you keep your own heart bricked up behind your bones. You're only playing.