“Magic is a power, much like madness but so much more like fire.”

“It' like he has the ability to take on some of my pain. I feel so much better around him. Stronger. And he is willing to take my pain. He wants to bear it with me. I can see it shining in his eyes. I'm more than a duty to him. I'm more than his literal dream girl. I'm so much more.”

“I may sound a little blasphemous here, but I tell you... understanding God's will is like reading a first-year primer compared to guessing the minds of women.”

“I’m flying!”Of course, I’m not flying so much as coasting over the treetops like a hand glider or a freakishly large flying squirrel.”

“There was is Arthur Nicholls much to recommend him to Charlotte Bronte, not least of which was the disparity between surface and soul, and it might be argued that Mr. Nicholls was the hidden gem of the two. Behind a veneer of quiet, ladylike demeanor, Charlotte concealed an acerbic mind and ruthlessly harsh opions on the weaknesses of the human species. Arthur, on the other hand, was the blustery, bigoted sort who could barely open his mouth without offending someone. Yet when the gloves came off, he had a great and tender heart, and was capable of love that would bear all wrongs, endure all tempests - in short, the very stuff that Charlotte took great pains to fabricate in her stories and that she was convinced she would never find.”

“Humans fear death so much, but there is no death,” he whispers. “There is only the illusion of it. We can never cease to be. We must stay like this. Forever.”

“So much, I think then. There is still so very much to lose.”