Should I ever again sink into illness, I'm sure I'll remember Eldric. I'll remember he cared for me. I'll remember that someone had at least taken the time to touch my face.

I've confessed to everything and I's liked to be hanged. Now, if you please

Witches don’t look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.

I don’t mind the disapproving ones so much. It’s the tolerant ones I can’t stand, the ones who smile at Rose, who speak to her ever so slowly and gently. They don’t realize how very intelligent Rose really is. They’re just terrifically pleased with themselves. Look at me! they all but shout. See how broad-minded I am! How wonderfully progressive, how fantastically twentieth century!

A girl can have the face of an angel but have a horrid sort of heart.

Meaning. If you're going to die, you want to find meaning in life. You want to connect the dots.

How can something as fragile as a word build the whole world?