If I’d had a nickel for every time Rachel had said whatever, we wouldn’t have had to steal Warren Fairchild’s gold.

The girl looked up, blinking, a far-off expression in here eyes. I recognized it, understood the shock of realizing the world inside your book wasn’t real. Even worse, you were in another world entirely and no one understood – or even cared – that you preferred the one living on the page.

Its emptiness is more than the lack of living, breathing beings. It is the unread pages of the many books that reside on the shelves throughout the room I should hot have thought one could tell when books have gone unread, but after the company of Birchwood’s well-loved library it is as if I can hear these books whispering, their pages grasping and reaching for an audience.

Books never lied to me, never betrayed me, never left me alone and wondering what was wrong with me.

The universe seems to have its own mysterious plan. I guess we’re just along for the ride.

I recall his somber eyes during that last, private conversation. His eyes and his words, far too wise for a boy of ten: only time will tell, Lia. In the end, I suppose it will.

A veces los árboles nos impiden ver el bosque

Pero no puedo dejar de pensar, no puedo detener el movimiento del engranaje de todo cuanto he aprendido. Dejo que mi mente se pasee por la oscuridad

Зелените ми очи са бездънни и празни и аз се питам дали е възможно човек да се променя отвътре навън, дали тъгата може да се излъчва през вените, органите и кожата, така че всички да я виждат.

I must confess I will miss your... proximity when jumping together.''Well,' she said, answering his smile with one of her own.'There's always sickle training in the ballroom.''That there is.