So the good prince was a murderer and the evil queen wasn't a witch after all.

And too much informayshun can drive a man mad. Too much informayshun becomes just Noise. And it never, never stops.

It was solitude, but it was solitude that wasn't lonely. Solitude that could sort things out. And he hadn't had that in ages.

Viola blows out a thoughtful air. "My dad used to say, 'There's only forward, Vi, only outward and up.'" "There's only forward," I repeat. "Outward and up," she says.

Viola? Keep calling for me– And I’ll keep searching for you– And I’ll find you– You bet yer life on it– I’ll find you– Keep calling for me, Viola– Cuz here I come.

Why can't we learn to live with how we are? And whatever anybody chooses is okay by the rest of us?

... a good idea always attracts other good ideas.