“Everything had become so Twilight only without the sparklies.”

“Is she become a rag doll? Are the wolves become children? It seems quite possible, there on the twilight fringes of dying. With some faint spark of herself, the little girl holds on to the idea. Even a rag doll has more life than does a dying child.”

“Everything about him was turning out to be so much more accessible than she had thought. Spark by spark, the fire of the lofty star was going out, revealing a warm and completely lovable earthling under its glare.”

“As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such twilight that we all must be most aware of change in the air – however slight – lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness.”

“Was it the Twilight of Magic? Perhaps. But only today's. Magic could never die while the sun had the power to rise again and man had the wish to seek.”

“The night crackled ... Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends.”