“How often is the passing of one storm only a prelude to another.”

“...For it began to occur to him that one way to become private was to respect another's privacy.”

“Touch magic. Pass it on.”

“All around me, grown-up voices called out, "Amen!" as if the word was a hall pass into Heaven.”

“A mist still lay all about the walls and floors, hovering like a last breath on the lips of all the sleepers. As he walked through the castle, he marveled at how many lay asleep: the good people, the not-so-good, the young people and the not-so-young, and not one of them stirring. Not one.”

“He unpacks his bag of taleswith fingers quickas a weaver's picking the weft threads threading the warp.Watch his fingers.Watch his lipsspeaking the old familiar words: "Once there was and there was not, oh, best beloved, when the world was filled with wishes the way the sea is filled with fishes..."All those threadspulling us backto another world, another time,when goosegirls married welland frogs could rhyme,when maids spoke syllables of pearland stepmothers came to grief..... (from The Storyteller poem)”

“You can only chase a butterfly for so long.”