“How did he keep playing when money gotreally tight, and there was no more food in the house? How did he play on when it became clear he was flunking out of school? Was music really enough when the whole world seemed to be collapsing around him? Or was it just the only thing left?”

“He was depressed. He was addicted to heroin. And I think there comes a time when all the beauty in the world just isn’t enough.”

“He cupped my face between his hands, and when our lips touched, his skin felt soft and warm. It was the smallest,gentlest, most earth-shattering kiss in the long and glorious history of kisses, and it took my breath away.”

“They need to practice harder," he said. 'If they're really going to do this, they need to work much harder.''They will," I assured him. 'But they got better, right?'Baz laughed. 'Are you going to stand in front of them during their gigs too? If so, make sure you get equal billing. People will pay a lot to see the girl with the broom.”

“Don’t worry about wanting to change; start worrying when you don’t feel like changing anymore. And in the meantime, enjoy every version of yourself you ever meet, because not everybody who discovers their true identity likes what they find.”

“That was when Angel Wells became a fiction writer, whether he knew it or not. That's when he learned how to make the make-believe matter to him more than real life mattered to him; that's when he learned how to paint a picture that was not real and never would be real, but in order to be believed at all- even on a sunny Indian summer day- it had to be better made and seem more real than real; it had to sound at least possible.”

“I bit my lip. 'Come on then, you dirty old man.' I stepped forward and smacked a kiss on Baz's lips. He looked petrified. The secretary looked horrified. I felt vindicated. 'Run along now, Daddy.' I said.”