“Vampires were myths, childhood stories– as were werewolves, mermaids and dragons. I believed none of it.”

“Wow! First vampires. Then gods. Now…vampire—gods? What’s next? Werewolves? Smurfs? Were-Smurfs?”

“Lend's dad, two werewolves, and a vampire. It was like the setup to a bad joke or something. A doctor, two werewolves, and a vampire walk into a bar. "What'll you have?" the bartender asks. "We were thinking him," the vampire answers, eyeing the doctor. Okay, jokes weren't my strong point.”

“If you were a mermaid, you said, If you were a mermaid, I was the sea.”

“My brother believed in all sorts of mythical creatures: pixies, dragons, werewolves, honest men.”

“Peasants and princes, bailiffs and bakers' boys, merchants and mermaids, the figures were all immediately familiar. I had read these stories a hundred, a thousand, times before. They were stories everyone knew. But gradually, as I read, their familiarity fell away from them. They became strange. They became new. These characters were not the colored manikins I remembered from my childhood picture books, mechanically acting out the story one more time. They were people.... The stories were shot through with an unfamiliar mood. Everyone achieved their heart's desire...but only when it was too late did they realize the price they must pay for escaping their destiny. Every Happy Ever After was tainted.”