The world was an awfully large place and it wasn't easy to find a person who'd gone missing sixty years earlier, even if that person was oneself.

She was the breeze on a summer's day, the first drops of rain when the earth was parched, light from the evening star.

The girl in the mirror caught my eye briefly...It is an uncanny feeling, that rare occasion when one catches a glimpse of oneself in repose. An unguarded moment, stripped of artifice, when one forgets to fool even oneself.

Only people unhappy in the present seek to know the future.

Cassandra always hid when she read, though she never quite knew why. It was as if she couldn't shake the guilty suspicion that she was being lazy, that surrendering herself so completely to something so enjoyable must surely be wrong. But surrender she did. Let herself drop through the rabbit hole and into a tale of magic and mystery.

She's one of the few people able to look beyond the lines on my face to see the twenty-year-old who lives inside.

But everyone's an expert with the virtue of hindsight . . . .