She doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in.

Life is lived on the inside. What's outside doesn't matter.

Let me fly, let me see things that are hidden from other eyes.

Yeah, reflections! The same, but different. Like twins - like blood brothers! And when you need something bad done, like punishment or revenge, you'll just ask me, and I will do it -

Nothing was easy, and sometimes she failed, and sometimes she thought that the fairy stories were right, that there must indeed be easier ways of living happily ever after; but defeat is a poor ending to any tale, so she kept trying.

More than this, I believe that the only lastingly important form of writing is writing for children. It is writing that is carried in the reader's heart for a lifetime; it is writing that speaks to the future.

Every atom in me feels composed of lead. This is what dying is: a pull to the ground.