It's A Cruel World, Don't You Think?

Blue As The Evening Sky, Blue As Cranesbill Flowers, Blue As The Lips Of Drowned Men And The Heart Of A Blaze Burning With Too Hot A Flame. Yes, Sometimes It Was Hot In This World, Too. Hot And Cold, Light And Dark, Terrible And Beautiful, It Was Everything All At Once. It Wasn't True That You Felt Nothing In The Land Of Death. You Felt And Heard And Smelled And Saw, But Your Heart Remained Strangely Calm, As If It Were Resting Before The Dance Began Again. Peace. Was That The Word?

Ten Minutes Can Be A Long Time When You're Waiting With A Beating Heart For Something You Don't Understand, Something You Don't Really Want To Know.

Life Was More Difficult In Inkheart, Yet It Seemed To Meggie That With Every New Day Fenoglio's Story Was Spinning A Magic Spell Around Her Heart, Sticky As A Spider's Web And Enchantingly Beautiful.

It's A Good Idea To Have Your Own Books With You In A Strange Place

Children Are Caterpillars And Adults Are Butterflies. No Butterfly Ever Remembers What It Felt Like Being A Caterpillar.