“I could write stories; I could hide from the world and make my own instead of trying to change it or live in it. I could make paper people and I would love them too; I could make them almost real.”

“I could write paper people and I would love them too; I could make them almost real.”

“I could go above ground now and then to gather food and paper, and isn't that enough to live on?”

“My words never last long. I have to destroy them before anyone sees them. But. I remember them all. For some reason, the act of writing them down makes me remember. Each word I write brings me closer to finding the right ones. And when I see Ky again, which I know will happen, I will whisper the words I have written in his ear, against his lips. and they will change from ash and nothing into flesh and blood.”

“They could not write their names, but I can write mine, and I will again, somewhere where it will last for a long, long time. I will find Ky, and then I will find that place.”

“In a story, you can turn to the front and begin again and everyone lives once more. That doesn't work in real life. And I love my real people the most.”

“For some reason, the act of writing them down makes me remember. Each word I write brings me closer to finding the right one.”