There were so many Jacks she had known, and he had known so many Hazels. And maybe she wasn’t going to be able to know all the Jacks that there would be. But all the Hazels that ever would be would have Jack in them, somewhere.
She just eyed them coolly, as if they were nothing to her, as if their nothingness surprised and slightly repelled her.
She looked at her shelves, filled with books in which the bad stuff that happened to people was caused by things like witches who lured people into the woods. In a weird way, the world seemed to make more sense that way.
His words sounded foolish to his own ears. He was not impressive. He was small like the world.
If shadows were caused by the interplay between light and Life, a child’s was still forming. An adult’s was inextricably bound to his body, but a child had a tenuous relationship to his own permanence, and thus, his own shadow.
At each step there is a small moment of transformation that cannot be overlooked or rushed. And these moments should not be, because they are beautiful.
He’s gone now. He did something terrible, but…he did good things, too. And he kept us well. And it’s all right if you are sad.
This was not [him]. It was a thing, with all the [him]-ness gone from it. Death takes the person and leaves his shell behind, like a hollowed-out tree.
Someone who thinks of possessing a fountain made of a winged baby with water shooting out of its mouth must not have too many troubles.
It was a beautiful lie that they had all been telling themselves—that you could have magic without monsters.
Something rose in Oscar’s chest, like a flower blossoming all at once. It grew until it filled him and threatened to spill over everywhere. The words [he] spoke touched a longing so deep Oscar hadn’t even known it was there.
He could still escape—the fear was in front of him, and all he had to do was wrench free and run in the other direction. But he kept walking forward, straight into its embrace.
What are you supposed to do when something like that happens? Do you hold on or let go?
They said words they did not mean, and their conversations seemed to follow all kinds of rules—rules that no one has ever explained to Oscar.