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.

I perceive that you have a cruel heart, my child. It lies within your breast like a smoldering blade, hissing steam at me.

But if you must be clever, then be clever. Be brave. Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

Magic does that. It wastes you away. Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all.

I have made calculations that would beggar your soul. What is it that villains always say at the end of stories? You and I are more alike than you think? Well,” the Marquess took September’s hand in hers and very gently kissed it. “We are. Oh, how alike we are! I feel very warmly towards you, and I only want to protect you, as I wish someone had protected me. Come, September, look out the window with me. It’s not a difficult thing. A show of faith, let’s call it.

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

Love, I've never been anyone's mother; I don't know how to talk to young or old. But don't stop smiling just because I flap my mouth and say something that's not dressed around the edges like a lace tablecloth. Thicken up and we'll get along fine.