Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.

Adults should not weep, I knew. They did not have mothers who would comfort them.

This is a work of fiction. Still, given an infinite number of possible worlds, it must be true on one of them. And if a story set in an infinite number of possible worlds is true in one of them, then it must be true in all of them. So maybe, it's not as fictional as we think.

It has been said that civilization is twenty-four hours and two meals away from barbarism.

Loyalty was a great thing, but no lieutenants should be forced to choose between their leader and a circus with elephants.

I was not scared of anything, when I read my book.

Bod shrugged. "So?" he said. "It's only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.