If one did not have at least a little luck, one would never survive childhood. But luck can be spent, like money; and lost, like a memory; and wasted, like a life.

But her heart was so cold that she could hold ice in her mouth and it would never melt.

That’s what a map is, you know. Just a memory.

A labyrinth, when it is big enough, is just the world.

The worst thing in the world is having to go back to the dark you shook off.

Fierce was her needle, and she wore it like a sword.

She felt as she often did in class when she was nearly sure she had the right answer, but could not always make herself raise her hand.