“By the bones!" said Shay. "He has all seven!""All seven what?""The Potter biographies! The College of Spires only had five of the volumes... four now, since I stole one.""What's so special about these books?" She picked up one of the fat tomes and flipped it open."Potter was a member of a race of wizards who lived in the last days of the human age," said Shay.Jandra frowned as she flipped through the pages. "Are you certain this isn't fiction?" She asked.”

“You put a spell on the dog," I said as we left the house."Just a small one," said Nightingale."So magic is real," I said. "Which makes you a...what?""A wizard.""Like Harry Potter?"Nightingale sighed. "No," he said. "Not like Harry Potter.""In what way?""I'm not a fictional character," said Nightingale.”

“One day," she said, "I'll catch dreams like butterflies.""And then what?" he asked."Then I'll put them between the pages of big, fat books and press them until they're words.""Suppose there's someone who never dreams of anything but you?""Maybe then we're both words in a book. Two names among all the others.”

“Good,” and Judge Robertson began to ramble on about the benefits and drawbacks of living with either parent. Penny’s attention wandered, she had stopped pretending the judge’s eyebrow’s had metamorphosis into butterflies and began to wonder if any adult actually read the books on these walls, and if she flipped through would she find blank pages after a while, or a joke page, just to surprise someone who actually sat through the book. That’s what she would do if she had to write something so awful, and who would want to check? -Child of Fire”

“Is it like a Harry Potter thing?" He turned his head then. "A what?""A Harry Potter thing," she said again. "You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention?"He considered it. "You mean the children's book.""I have got to get you to watch more movies," she said. "You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the children's book.”

“But my best friend from college was silent for a long time. She, of all of my friends, had seen the parade of sad wrecks through my life, date after bad date after bad boyfriend. She was the one who'd picked up the pieces after the musician, the investment banker, the humanitarian who was human to everyone but me.When at last she spoke, she said, Oh, hell.And, after that: Hallelujah.”