If you keep pretending you're in that book, it will make you not want to live in the life you're in.

Many [book] even lay flat in the floor open. Their spines upward. Elinor couldn't bear to look! Didn't the monster know that was the way to break a book's neck?

Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood. You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?

a book always keeps something of its owner between its pages.

Dustfinger closed his eyes and listened. He was home again.

Didn't books say that too: that there is always price to pay for happiness?

I don't like to eat the same dish every day, so I read very different things.