She kept watching the words.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.

It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

An eleven-year-old girl is many things, but she is not stupid.

The human child – so much cannier at times than the stupefyingly ponderous adult.

It was a style not of perfection, but warmth. Even mistakes had a good feeling about them