It's amazing how large the things are that it's possible to overlook.

I do not miss my toys. I wouldn't play with them anyway. I am fifteen. I miss my childhood.

It doesn't matter. I have books, new books, and I can bear anything as long as there are books.

Magic isn't inherently evil. But it does seem to be terribly bad for people.

I've always thought fairies are like mushrooms, you trip over them when you're not thinking about them, but they're hard to spot when you're searching for them.

You know, class is like magic. There's nothing there you can point to, it evaporates if you try to analyse it, but it's real and it affects how people behave and makes things happen.

The thing about Tolkien, about The Lord of the Rings, is that it's perfect. It's this whole world, this whole process of immersion, this journey. It's not, I'm pretty sure, actually true, but that makes it more amazing, that someone could make it all up. Reading it changes everything.