Like how stars might sound. Or moons But not mountains. Too floaty for mountains. It's a sound like one planet singing to another, high stretched and full of different voices starting at different notes and sloping down to other different notes but all weaving together in a rope of sound that's sad but not sad and slow but not slow and all singing one word. One word.

It's always darkest before the dawn, Todd.” I look at him, baffled. “No, it ain't! What kinda stupid saying is that? It's always lightest before the dawn!

...and I have this stupid little thought that Aaron didn't survive the croc attack after all, that he died but he's so pissed off at me that dying didn't stop him from coming here to kill me anyway.

Teenagers are the greatest readers in the world - honest, unsnobby and loyal

Nobody has to tell nobody nothing,” I say, taking another step forward. “You never were a poet, were you, Todd?” he says.

No,' Ben says, 'but I believe it. I believe it for you. And that's why it's hope.

Life ain't fair. It ain't. Not never.