What?" It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow.

The moon grew full, then slowly pared itself down until it shriveled into a ghostly boat riding above the roiling dark. Then it fell out of the sky. They climbed into it, left land behind, and floated out to sea.

All I wanted, even when I hated you most, was some poor, barren, parched excuse to love you. But you only gave me riddles.

I don't teach lies, but I do not teach all I know is true.

...that once were urgent and necessary for an orderly world and now were buried away, gathering dust and of no use to anyone.

Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice.

Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart.