“Where did the love come from? What was it made of?”

“She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from?”

“Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?”

“What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?”

“perhaps because this time not fear but love made him read.”

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

“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.”