“What is?', he said. 'What if?' is a question that belongs to magic.”

“Show me what you got,” he snarled at his reflection. “You think you belong here? You think you got magic? Prove it!”

“And that's what I don't like about magic, Captain. 'cos it's *magic*. You can't ask questions, it's magic. It doesn't explain anything, it's magic. You don't know where it comes from, it's magic! That's what I don't like about magic, it does everything by magic!”

“What does it all mean?' I said.'A good question,' he rejoined: 'nobody knows what anything is; a man can learn only what a thing means. Whether he do, depends on the use he is making of it.”

“I wondered if there were other restless people asking the question with me: What if Jesus meant the stuff he said?.”

“See - this book belongs to you,' Hannah said sweetly.'No young lady,' the birdman said. 'It belongs to you - but you don't belong to it.'He leaned in very close to her.'You belong to you,' he said.”