Who the heck is Don Quick-oats?

I think about dying every day, because I can't stop thinking about living.

There is no greater power on this earth than story.

Because it is morning, it is morning, and there is so much to see.

The ladies pass the timee with gossip and hearsay. This is what they have in place of freedom- gime and gossip. Their lives are small and careful. I do not wish to live this way. I should like to make my mark. To venture opinions that may not be polite or even correct but are mine nonetheless. If I am to be hanged for anything, I should like to feel that I go to the gallows on my own strength.

Forget your pain. It was what I said when I took Father's hand in the drawing room yesterday, what I repeated again tonight. But I didn't mean this. I must be careful. Yet what bothers me isn't the power of the magic or how, to a person, they've all accepted it as truth. No, what unsettles me the most is how much I want to believe it too.

You must remember, my dear lady, the most important rule of any successful illusion: First, the people must want to believe in it.