We have the right, and the obligation, to tell old stories in our own ways, because they are our stories.

What power would Hell have if those imprisoned were not able to dream of Heaven?

Here, far from our homes, we will be forgotten by our gods.

I wondered, as I wondered so often when I was that age, who I was, and what exactly was looking at the face in the mirror. If the face I was looking at wasn't me, and I knew it wasn't, because I would still be me whatever happened to my face, then what was me? And what was watching?

How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow.

Agnes was the worst prophet that's ever existed. Because she was always right. That's why the book never sold.

It's just I might get distracted, and I get lost kind of easily, and sometimes I have really bad days...when, you know, I just want to hide or scream or bleed or something, and...all that...