“Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face.Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood.You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?”

“Who’s a** is this?” Mo asked...“Mine!” Mykel shouted.Mo stilled and then laughed. Mykel thought about what he said and then felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “I mean yours.” “God, I love you,” Mo said...”

“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.”

“Ang great love mo, hindi mo makakatuluyan. Ang makakatuluyan mo ay yung correct love.”

“Kakabog ang dibdib mo, kikilig ang kalamnan mo, at kikirot ang puso mo. Kabog, kilig, kirot. Kapag naramdaman mo ang tatlong K, ... umiibig ka!”

“Kakabog ang dibdib mo, kikiligin ang kalamnan mo at kikirot ang puso mo. Kabog, kilig, kirot. Kapag naramdaman mo ang tatlong K, umiibig ka.”