We feel cold, but we don't mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn't feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It's worth being cold for that.

We are all subject to the fates. But we must act as if we are not, or die of despair.

Iorek Byrnison: Can is not the same as must. Lyra Silvertongue: But if you must and you can, then there's no excuse.

I seemed to have spent the whole time either reading, which I loved, or laughing, which I love, or fooling about, which I loved. There was the usual teenage angst: "Nobody understands me" and "I'm the only genius in the world" and all that stuff. But that didn't get very deep.

When you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don't take are snuffed out like candles, as if they'd never existed.

And think what worrying does: has anyone ever added a single hour to the length of his life by worrying about it?

There are some themes, some subjects, too large for adult fiction; they can only be dealt with adequately in a children's book.