We live in our tales of ourselves, she thought, and ignore as best we can the contradictions, and the lapses, and the abrasions of plot against our mortal souls.

Was it an accident that I saw Fiyero, I wondered, looking at the manager with new eyes, or is it just that world unwraps itself to you again and again as soon as you are ready to see it anew?

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

I shall pray for your soul,' promised Nessarose. I shall wait for your shoes,' Elphie answered.

Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.

...What is the use of beauty? i have lived my life surrounded by painters, and still I do not know the answer. But i suspect, some days, that beauty helps protect the spirit of mankind, swaddle it and succor it, so that we might survive. Beauty is no end in itself, but if it makes or lives less miserable so that we might be more kind-well, then, lets have beauty, painted on our porcelain, hanging on our walls, ringing through our stories.

He knew about being alone. The weather was always cold there.