A world in which there are monsters$$$ and ghosts$$$ and things that want to steal your heart is a world in which there are angels$$$ and dreams$$$ and a world in which there is hope.

We save our lives in such unlikely ways.

Anyone who calls you "little lady" has already excluded you from the set of people worth listening to.

The only reason people die$$$ is because EVERYONE does it. You all just go along with it.<br/>It's RUBBISH$$$ death. It's STUPID. I don't want nothing to do with it.

I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too.

I like airplanes. I like anywhere that isn't a proper place. I like in betweens.

Stories are made up by people who make them up. If they work$$$ they get retold. There's the magic of it.

Even the proudest spirit can be broken with love.

The TV's the altar. I'm what people are sacrificing to.<br/>"What do they sacrifice?" asked Shadow.<br/>"Their time$$$ mostly$$$" said Lucy. "Sometimes each other."

Some hats can only be worn if you're willing to be jaunty$$$ to set them at an angle and to walk beneath them with a spring in your stride as if you're only a step away from dancing. They demand a lot of you.