They were not my friends, after all. They were just the people I went to school with.

We have to get the... the thing I got... to the Angel. And then he'll tell Door about her family, and he'll tell me how to get home." Lamia looked at Hunter with delight. "And he can give you brains," she said, cheerfully, "and me a heart.

A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change.

When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." and we lie: "I'll never leave you." For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad.

You can't run away from home without destroying somebody's world.

Without dreams, there could be no despair.

Parameters are the things you bounce off to create art.