In the early morning hours, Hannah read at the table by the dim light of dawn. She leaned in close to the pages, chin resting on her folded arms, eyes racing over the words, like chasing butterflies over the hills, to catch as many as she could before going to work. She wondered at how such tales of magic could be contained by mere paper and ink for her to read again and again.

I hate them!' she cried. 'It's not fair!' 'No, it isn't,' Frederick said gently. 'I can't do it all!' 'No. You can't.' After a long moment he said, 'But you can do what you can.' 'And what if that isn't enough?' Frederick held her shoulders and took a step back. He looked in her eyes. 'Enough for what?' 'For my family.' 'What more could they ask for than what you've given?

Sometimes, when we want something so badly, we fear failure more than we fear being without that thing.

One cannot apologize for one's nature.

In life, the hardest decisions often have to be made more than once. But each time, it gets easier.

Clockwork could not run counter to its nature. The seconds, minutes, and hours moved only forward. Patient, precise, and unstoppable. Memory was an indulgence, an illusion that broke like a wave upon the juggernaut of time. The past remained the past.

You can never trust anyone once you've had to trap them in a cage.