Because it's magic, this place . . . beautiful. And you're beautiful . . . beautifully separate. It all fits.

And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.

The people we care for aren't always the one we should

How long will you keep me?" I asked. You shrugged. "Forever, of course.

You saw me before I saw you. You had that look in your eyes, as if you wanted something. Wanted it for a long time.

Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.

Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.

It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.

Nobody's bought this land. And no one's going to want it either. It's dying land, lonely land." "Like me, then," I said. "Yes, like you." You chewed the corner of your lip. "You both need saving.

I craved your warmth. I hugged myself, rubbing my fingers up and down. I guess people are like insects sometimes, drawn to heat, A kind of infra-red longing.

People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.

We read the weird tales in newspapers to crowd out the even weirder stuff inside us.

I have thought about punching people out. Sometimes, I've thought, 'Why don't I just act on that impulse?' But then, I've never hit anybody in anger. Hey! I've never hit anybody for fun.

I don't like talking about myself and I don't like talking about the work.

The foundation of adult trust is not “You will never hurt me.” It is “I trust myself with whatever you do.

Every step begins a journey, and this one is for us.

Somewhere along the line I knew there'd be girls, visions, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me.

No, I don’t wear contacts, and contrary to what some people have said, I do not have a glass eye.

Being raised Catholic myself, I think people who are Catholic tend to carry a lot of guilt. It's almost a joke.

Escape plan #5: Open an alpaca ranch in Texas, one that requires all blond-haired, brown-eyed, brainy girls to wear sexy cowgirl outfits.

I have fun. I enjoy my life. And I was hardwired for a deep connection between service, God, and happiness. You kind of need all of those things to be in play for one to have the others.