But witchy magic doesn’t listen to please and pretty please, and anyway, I didn’t really care. I only pretended to care because not caring makes me a monster.

Witches don’t look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.

Even a witch wants sympathy.

If you say a word, it leaps out and becomes the truth. I love you. I believe it. I believe I am loveable. How can something as fragile as a word build a whole world?

I don't mean to be ungrateful but if someone's out there answering prayers, mine's not at the top of the list

Thoughts are strange creatures. They lead you from one thing to another. Sometimes you don’t know how you got from one to the next.

Meaning. If you're going to die, you want to find meaning in life. You want to connect the dots.

Perhaps you should put your head down.” I knew this was the thing to do, although I’ve never fainted and I don’t intend to.

Secrets press inside a person. They press the way water presses at a dam. The secrets and the water, they both want to get out.

Now that’s true poetic irony. I rush into battle to defend the fair name of Rose Larkin, and what does she do but fetch Robert to stop me.

Yes, I'm shallow, I don't mind admitting it. Perhaps I should admit that there's no end to the depths of my shallowness.

This should have been a red flag, I realize in retrospect. Working really hard on anything is, by definition, not cool.

May each of my grandsons know, at an early age, what his life's ambition is -- and may he be successful in his pursuit of that goal.

If you want to be a warrior, you have to train.

In short, Google prefers a world where we consistently go to three restaurants to a world where our choices are impossible to predict.

The president should not be able to make me or you ever worried about what's going to happen in our personal life.

As ability goes, so goes our fortune.

If you are losing your leisure, look out! You are losing your soul.

When I was seventeen, I don't think I even knew what love was. But when it's right, it's right, and you just know it.

Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth wings, like rose-petals.

Capitalists will sell us the rope we will hang them with.