Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.

Gathering is peculiar, because you see nothing but what you're looking for. If you're picking raspberries, you see only what's red, and if you're looking for bones you see only the white. No matter where you go, the only thing you see is bones.

It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive. It has come to a standstill; nothing withers, and fall is not ready to begin. There are no stars yet, just darkness.

You can't always be friendly. It's impossible, there isn't the time.

But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.

You must go on a long journey before you can really find out how wonderful home is.

Most of the people are homesick anyway, and a little lonely, and they hide themselves in their hair and are turned into flowers.