She was beautiful and terrifying, savage and pure.

I believe we have an utterly unique specimen on our hands: a child who listens.

Do you know, we're right underneath Springtime Parish? This place is the opposite of springtime. Everything past prime, boarded up for the season. Just above us, the light shines golden on daffodils full of rainwine and heartgrass and a terrible, wicked, sad girl I can't get back to. I don't even know if I want to. Do I want to be her again? Or do I want to be free? I come here to think about that. To be near her and consider it. I think I shall never be free. I think I traded my freedom for a better story. It was a better story, even if the ending needed work.

A library is never complete. That’s the joy of it. We are always seeking one more book to add to our collection.

Monsters almost always are culture's way of working out their fears.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Slowly, without taking his eyes from hers, the man in the black coat knelt before her. ”I have come for the girl in the window,” he said, and his eyes filled with tears