Why do grown-ups think it's easier for children to bear secrets than the truth? Don't they know about the horror stories we imagine to explain the secrets?

She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from?

I like a composer called Henry Purcell, and I love to listen to Neil Young.

She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.

My grandmother told stories; she was very good at that.

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.

Yes, I do enjoy walking at night. The world’s more to my liking then, not so loud, not so fast, not so crowded, and a good deal more mysterious.