Short stories do not say this happened and this happened and this happened. They are a microcosm and a magnification rather than a linear progression.

Sometimes I am afraid for people like you who have to know things. Your kind will dig and hunt and worry at it until one day you will find what is hidden, waiting for you.

That was what happened to laughter when you caged it. It became unbearably sad. It was worse than crying.

Cracks especially. You have to be careful of the cracks.. Sometimes they are disguised as something else. A doorway, or a smile or even a winking eye. And if you fall through them, you never know were you will end up.

If she is afraid of mirrors she is afraid of herself.

‎It is better to pursue a hopeless hope than to give in to black despair.

Never trust a mirror,' his mother had told him. 'They never tell the truth unless you make them.