And when whatever happened in that barn happened, it was a moment I’ll never forget. Like a missing key slid into a dusty old lock. Click. My world opened.

My eyes meet his and I understand exactly what he's saying. He's my person. He's my home.

What is your secret? What could you possibly know, more than 80 years after you death, that someone doesn't want us to find out?

The blank sheet stares up at me, its emptiness like a slap. Those were the last words Ginny ever wrote before she and her family were murdered.

I look away, but we've caught each other. And I know this wasn't just a ghost story to him, even if it was to the others.

Did you mean what you said before? About the dead hanging around? You really believe it?

They’d come for you, and this time they’d come with we

He leaned toward me and said his name like he was sharing a secret and it made me think he probably kept a lot of secrets. His smile was sweet and his teeth the tiniest bit crooked.

The more you give, the more you live.

When you invite a middle-aged moralist to address you, I suppose I must conclude that you have a taste for middle-aged moralizing.

He who remembers from day to day what he has yet to learn, and from month to month what he has learned already, may be said to have a love of learning.

For then I knew my soul - every soul - has always held Him.

Speak no evil of women; I tell thee the meanest of them deserves respect; for of women do we not all come?

Don't wanna sleep, don't wanna die, just wanna go a-travellin' through the pastures of the sky

There is no joy nobler than suffering for the sake of love for man.

The game isn't over till it's over.