So let my hands and my face make their way in this world, let my hungry eyes see, my tongue taste.

Where I'm from, we believe in all sorts of things that aren't true... we call it history.

The real thing about evil," said the Witch at the doorway, "isn't any of what you said. You figure out one side of it - the human side, say - and the eternal side goes into shadow. Or vice versa. It's like the old saw: What does a dragon in its shell look like? Well no one can ever tell, for as soon as you break the shell to see, the dragon is no longer in its shell. The real disaster of this inquiry is that it is the nature of evil to be secret.

...No opening sermons concerning children with humps and fins for limbs, who nonetheless, immortal souls all, deserve life, liberty, and the pursuit of Happy Meals.

No, she wasn't losing language. She was choking on it.

To read, even in the half-dark, is also to call the lost forward.

She dreamed of leaving, but she had too little exposure to the world to imagine where to go.