People always remember the worst day of their lifes. It becomes a part of them forever.

Maybe he was a good a good whitecoat—like Jeb. And maybe the moon was made of cream cheese.

Fear is not the answer, not ever.

I learnt to love reading. And then I started scribbling stories, and I liked that even more.

I don't smile as much as I should, even though I smile inside a lot.

Why was the blind guy playing with matches, you ask? Because he's good at it. Anything to do with fire, igniting things, exploding things, things with fuses, wicks, accelerants . . . Iggy's your man. It's one of those good/bad things.

Time for bed.” I held my fist out. One by one, my flock stacked theirs on top, and then we headed up into the trees to sleep the sleep of the innocent. Well, okay, maybe not so innocent. But the sleep of the much less guilty than others, for sure.