Take what you have learned, and move on.

Something told him that something was coming to an end. Not the world, exactly. Just the summer. There would be other summers, but there would never be one like this. Ever again.

Words can wound, and wounds can heal.

Someone killed my Mother and my Father and my Sister?" "Yes, someone did." "A Man?" "A Man." "Which means," said Bod, "you're asking the wrong question." Silas raised an eyebrow. "How so?" "Well," said Bod. "If I go outside in the world, the question isn't who will keep me safe from him?" "No?" "No. It's who will keep him safe from me?

Songs remain. They last...A song can last long after the events and the people in it are dust and dreams and gone. That's the power of songs.

Bod quite liked crows. He thought they were funny and he liked the way they helped to keep the graveyard tidy.

I thought, I'm going to die. And, thinking that, I was determined to live.