When you don't know what you're searching for, you have to look absolutely everywhere.

It's not that I don't know that it's a bad idea. It's that, lately, bad ideas have a particular hold over me.

If she was going to die, she might as well die sarcastic.

But now I wonder--what if everyone is pretty much the same and it's just a thousand small choices that add up to the person you are? No good or evil, no black and white, no inner demons or angels whispering the right answers in our ears like it's some cosmic SAT test. Just us, hour by hour, minute by minute, day by day,making the best choices we can. The thought is horrifying. If that's true, then there's no right choice. There's only choice.

I envy what I fear and hate what I envy.

Death’s favorites don’t die.

Magic gives you a lot of choices," Grandad says. "Most of them are bad.