EVERY ENDING IS A NEW BEGINNING. YOUR LUCKY NUMBER IS NONE. YOUR LUCKY COLOUR IS DEAD. Motto: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON.

I thought about moving south, about continuing to run, continuing to pretend I was alive. But it was, I knew now, much too late for that. There are doors, after all, between the living and the dead, and they swing in both directions.

Her other mother smiled brightly and the hair on her head drifted like plants under the sea.

Too much talking these days. Talk talk talk. This country would get along much better if people learned how to suffer in silence.

And because nobody's done it before, they haven't made up rules to stop anyone doing that again, yet.

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

She was also an adult, and when adults fight children, adults always win.