“All books are in safe hands with me. They're my children, my inky children, and I look after them well. I keep the sunlight away from their pages, I dust and protect them from hungry hookworms and grubby human fingers.”

“My children were all made from paper and printer's ink...”

“I pledge to set out to live a thousand lives between printed pages.I pledge to use books as doors to other minds, old and young, girl and boy, man and animal.I pledge to use books to open windows to a thousand different worlds and to the thousand different faces of my own world.I pledge to use books to make my universe spread much wider than the world I live in every day.I pledge to treat my books like friends, visiting them all from time to time and keeping them close.”

“She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.”

“They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.”

“A story wearing another dress every time you hear it - what could be better? A story that grows and puts out flowers like a living thing! But look at the stories people press in books! They may last longer, yes, but they breathe only when someone opens the book. They are sound pressed between the pages, and only a voice can bring them back to life! Then they throw off sparks, Balbulus! Then they go free as birds flying out into the world. Perhaps you're right, and the paper makes them immortal. But why should I care? Will I live on, neatly pressed between the pages with my words? Nonsense! We're none of us immortal; even the finest words don't change that, do they?”

“This world,' she said. 'Do you really like it?'What a question! Farid never asked himself such things. He was glad to be with Dustfinger again and didn't mind where that was.It's a cruel world, don't you think?' Meggie went on. 'Mo often told me I forget how cruel it is too easily.'With his burned fingers, Farid stroke her fair hair. It shone even in the dark. 'They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.”