“She was an extraordinary person too! Would you believe it, she cut her hair short, and used to go about in men’s boots in bad weather”

“Her hair is smoldering. Her face was smudged with soot. She had a cut on her arms, her dress was torn, and she was missing a boot. Beautiful.”

“Don't die on me," she ordered. "You are not dying on me.""Yes, ma'am." He felt light-headed, but she was about the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her hair was smoldering. Her face was smudged with soot. She had a cut on her arm, her dress was torn, and she was missing a boot. Beautiful.”

“There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.”

“She needs to wake up," said Boots. "Hazard is crying. When does she wake up?" Gregor could not find it within him to give his standard reply. To pretend that in a short time Thalia would be back with them, laughing and happy. And somehow it seemed wrong to try. Boots was getting older. Very soon, she would begin to realize the truth on her own, anyway. "She's not going wake up," he told her. "She's dead.""She doesn't wake up?" said Boots."No, not this time," said Gregor. "This time, she had to go away."Boots looked around at all their faces, at Hazard crying. "Where did she go?" No one had an answer. "Where is Thalia when she doesn't wake up?"The question hung in the air for an eternity. Finally, it was Howard who spoke up. "Why, she's in your heart, Boots.""My heart?" said Boots, putting both hands on her chest."Yes. That's where she lives now," said Howard."She can fly away?" asked Boots, pressing her palms tightly against her heart as if to keep Thalia from escaping."Oh, no, she will stay there forever," said Howard.”

“But the uproar this caused was nothing compared with the uproar when Katronia noticed [Rosie] had also cut her eyelashes. Various negotiations (including, finally, such desperate measures as "supposing you ever want to eat again") eventually produced the grudging promise that, in return for Katronia keeping her hair cut short, she would leave her eyelashes alone.”