There's a but, isn't there?" said Coraline. "I can feel it. Like a rain cloud.

Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.

Nothing I did where the only reason for doing it was the money was ever worth it, except as bitter experience.

The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don't look like much of a minstrel, and you're— pardon me for saying so lad, but it's true— ordinary as cheese crumbs. So it's love if you ask me.

I'll find you. Don't worry. Just be on your own and I'll find you.

I do not threaten, I merely advise caution.

Identity can be so gelatinous sometimes.