Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.

If the world wants you, it's gonna keep on coming till it gets you. And who am I that can fix it? Who am I that can change this if the world wants it so badly? Who am I to stop the end of the world if it keeps on coming?

For me it is really important to have a story with blood in the veins, there are bad tempers and good tempers.

I'll do it, Todd," I whisper. "I'll come with you." And he doesn't say anything, just squeezes my hand harder and brings it up to his face like he wants to breathe me in.

Sometimes witches merit saving. Quite often, actually. You'd be surprised.

To say you have no choice is to relieve yourself of responsibility.

There's always beauty, if you know where to look.