“At the last moment, Antoinette came out of her faint and shouted one word to her child.That word, reader, was adieu...Adieu is the French word for farewell. “Farewell” is not the word you would like to hear from your mother as you are being led to the dungeon by two oversize mice in black hoods... “Farewell” is a word that, in any language, is full of sorrow. It is a word that promises absolutely nothing.”

“But, reader, there is no comfort in the word "farewell," even if you say it in French. "Farewell" is a word that,in any language, is full of sorrow. It is a word that promises absolutely nothing.”

“Farewell” is not the word that you would like to hear from your mother as you are being led to the dungeon by 2 oversize mice in black hoods.Words that you would like to hear are “Take me instead, I will go to the dungeon in my sons place.” There is a great deal of comfort in those words.”

“Farewell is a word that, in any language, is full of sorrow. It is a word that promises nothing.”

“Say it, reader. Say the word 'quest' out loud. It is an extraordinary word, isn't it? So small and yet so full of wonder, so full of hope.”

“But still, here are the words Despereaux Tilling spoke to his father. He said, "I forgive you, Pa!" And he said those words because he sensed that it was the only way to save his heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself.”

“They lived happily ever after. It said so. In the book. They were the last words on the page. Happily ever after. Despereaux was sure that he had read exactly those words time and time again.Lying on the floor with the drum beating and the mice shouting... Despereaux had a sudden, chilling thought: Had some other mouse eaten the words that spoke the truth? Did the knight and the fair maiden really not live happily ever after?”