“Here is a piece that falls between the chapters, like a coin between paving stones. It is a slice of silence in the middle of a melody.It is a rough and ragged spot, like the frill of stubs where pages have been torn out. There is no point looking for them. They are gone”

“A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.”

“Speeches are like steer horns- A point here, a point there and a lot of bull in between.”

“Thunderheads were pouring toward them through the ragged teeth of the White Mountains, and Lisey counted seven dark spots where the high slopes had been smudged away by cauls of rain. Brilliant lightnings flashed inside those stormbags and between those two of them, connecting them like some fantastic fairy bridge, was a double rainbow that arched over Mount Cranmore in a frayed loophole of blue.”

“The trick in writing children's books is to set up danger, mystery and excitement on page one. Force the kid to turn the page . . . Then in the middle of each chapter there's a dramatic point of excitement, and at chapter's end, a cliffhanger.”

“It's surprisingly nice out here, peaceful and pretty-strange to be standing in the middle of a little garden while enclosed by the massive stone walls of the prison, like being at the exact center of a hurricane, and finding peace and silence in the middle of so much shrieking damage.”