A name can't begin to encompass the sum of all her parts. But that's the magic of names, isn't it? That the complex, contradictory individuals we are can be called up complete and whole in another mind through the simple sorcery of a name.

Magic lies in between things, between the day and the night, between yellow and blue, between any two things.

It's not all about getting your own way. Sometimes there's a bigger picture.

We're all made of stories. When they finally put us underground, the stories are what will go on. Not forever, perhaps, but for a time. It's a kind of immortality, I suppose, bounded by limits, it's true, but then so's everything.

Under the skin, intense fires burn.

Stone walls confine a tinker; cold iron binds a witch; but a musician's music can never be fettered, for it lives first in her heart and mind.

Wondering’s healthy. Broadens the mind. Opens you up to all sorts of stray thoughts and possibilities.