“The night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors, protected by light and solid walls.”

“So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.”

“So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.”

“I prefer a story that has the good sense to stay on the page where it belongs.- Elinor”

“believe me. Sometimes when life looks to be at its grimmest, there's a light hidden at the heart of things.Clive Barker, Abarat”

“a book always keeps something of its owner between its pages.”

“Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don’t belong to her, you know.” Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. “Well, children all have to belong to somebody,” he muttered. “Do you belong to someone?”“That’s different.”“Because you’re a grown-up?”