A life-whether seamstress or poet, farmer or king-is measured not by length, but by the worth of its deeds, and the power of its dreams.

Hy gododin catann hue Hud a lledrith mal wyddan Gaunce ae bellawn wen cabri Varigal don Fincayra Dravia, dravia Fincayra (Talking trees and walking stones, Giants aare the island's bones. While this land our dance still knows, Varigal crowns Fincayra. Live long, live long Fincayra.

And I came to understand, in a way I never had before, that books are truly the stuff of miracles. I even dared to dream that someday, somehow, I might surround myself with books from many times and many tongues.

You know what I like best about looking at the stars? Not the stars themselves, but all those empty spaces between the stars. That's where I can imagine traveling for ever and ever. That's where I can imagine infinity.

Why is it that what we do know can save us, but what we don't know can kill us?

Ah, life's little surprises! They can make any day unforgettable... or make it your last.

You're saying that our souls and the stars and the wings of a butterfly are all somehow connected?