Now Coraline," said Miss Spink, "what's your name?" "Coraline," said Coraline. "And we don't know each other, do we?" Coraline looked at the thin young woman with black button eyes and shook her head slowly.

In a novel, you can always go back and make it look like you knew what you were doing all along before the thing goes out and gets published.

We do what we do, because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.

This is how you can tell a real photographer: mostly, a real photographer does not say 'I wish I had my camera on me right now'. Instead a real photographer pulls out her camera and takes the photograph.

I watch with envious eyes and mind, the single-souled who dare not feel The wind that blows beyond the moon, who do not hear the fairy reel

I'm a fairly undisciplined writer.

And he waited. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like a small forever.