I wanted a library like this...[] A cave of words that I'd made myself.

There was nothing particularly special about her, except that she was good with numbers, and very good at lying, and she made her home in between the pages of books.

...she made her home in between the pages of books.

This is a love story. I never knew there were so many kinds of love or that love could make people do so many different things.I never knew there were so many different ways to say goodbye.

This is sams phone" there was a long,heavy pause, and then: "oh." Another pause. "Youre the girl, arent you? The girl who was in my house?" I tried to think of what i might gain by denying it and drew a blank "yes" do you have a name?"do you?"he gave a short laugh that was completely without humor but not unpleasent. "I think i might like you. Im Beck.

My wolf was a cute guy and he was holding my hand. I could die happy.

I knew he wouldn't come, but I howled anyway, and when I did, the other wolves would pass images of him to me of what he looked like: lithe, gray, yellow-eyed. I would pass back images of my own, of a wolf on the edge of the woods, silent and cautious, watching me. The images, clear as the slender-leaved trees in front of me, made finding him seem urgent, but I didn't know how to begin to look.

I remembered the pain as clearly as if I were shifting — the pain of loss. I felt the agony of the single moment that I lost myself. Lost what made me Sam. The part of me that could remember Grace's name.

Sam came around the back of the car and stopped dead when he saw me. "Oh my God, what is that?"I used my thumb and middle finger to flick the multicoloured pom-pom on top of my head. "In my language, we call it a hat. It keeps my ears warm.""Oh my God," Sam said again, and closed the distance between us. He cupped my face in his hands and studied me. "It's horribly cute." He kissed me, looked at the hat, and then he kissed me again.