Read the books you love, tell people about authors you like, and don’t worry about it.

You were her way here, and it's a dangerous thing to be a door.

Suppose we pick a name for him, eh?" Caius Pompeius stepped over and eyed the child. "He looks a little like my proconsul, Marcus. We could call him Marcus." Josiah Worthington said, "He looks more like my head gardener, Stebbins. Not that I'm suggesting Stebbins as a name. The man drank like a fish." "He looks like my nephew Harry," said Mother Slaughter... "He looks like nobody but himself," said Mrs.Owens, firmly. "He looks like nobody." "Then Nobody it is," said Silas. "Nobody Owens.

Yes. We both have a bad feeling. Tonight we shall take our bad feelings and share them, and face them. We shall mourn. We shall drain the bitter dregs of mortality. Pain shared, my brother, is pain not doubled, but halved. No man is an island.

Even the proudest spirit can be broken with love.

Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

My ideal reader is me. And yes, my ideal reader comes with me and is forgiving.