You play games with people's lives.(...) You forget that they are fragile.

If she kept wondering about how much of her life Bran engineered, she’d end up on a funny farm knitting caps for ducks.

Are we going to Portland?" I asked. "Or Multnomah Falls?" He smiled at me. "Go to sleep." I waited three seconds. "Are we there yet?" His smile widened, and the last of the usual tension melted from his face. For a smile like that, I'd...do anything.

When is the last time you were a tourist?” she asked archly. He just looked at her. Charles, she had to agree, was not tourist material. “Right,” Anna told him. “Buck up. You might even enjoy it.” “You might as well have ‘hapless victim’ tattooed across your forehead,” he muttered.

My father said that a silent person is trying to hide something.

You'd tell the world what your best friend wore to sleep if you thought it made a good enough story.

Over the years, she'd learned not to question him to closely—mostly because he wouldn't answer her.