I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.

There was romance in the unknown, but once a place had been discovered and cataloged and mapped, it was diminished, just another dusty fact in a book, sapped of mystery. So maybe it was better to leave a few spots on the map blank. To let the world keep a little of its magic, rather than forcing it to divulge every last secret. Maybe it was better, now and then, to wonder.

Sometimes you just need to go through a door.

If I never went home, what exactly would I be missing? I pictured my cold cavernous house, my friendless town full of bad memories, the utterly unremarkable life that had been mapped out for me. It had never once occurred to me, I realized, to refuse it.

I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen.

There was a girl who could fly, a boy who had bees living inside him, a brother and sister who could lift boulders over their heads.

I never remember nice dreams; only the bad ones stick.