I love you. It hurts more than anything ever has, but I do. So don't you dare tell me I don't. Don't you ever say it again!

. . . my bones they'll burn or bury. It'll be my death.

When I first saw Ellie, I knew it was her-- she was my fantasy. I didn't want it to be true, but every time I met her it was obvious, and the funny thing was that she was better than the fantasy, like I got more stuff than I'd imagined.

"I like you," he said. He made it sound as if she was bound to disagree with him. She nodded. His face said he was telling her something very important. He said, "I mean it. Whatever happens, you have to believe that."

No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.

The last few weeks, it was as if someone had taken his life to pieces and let him see the way it worked.

Sometimes if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen. If you miss someone so desperately that it wrecks your insides, you say their name over and over until you conjure then. It's called sympathetic magic and you just have to believe in it to make it work.