“And when we are with Alex, I might as well not be there. They speak in a language of whispers and giggles and secrets; their words are like a fairy-tale tangle of thorns, which place a wall between us.”

“And our lady friend, she thinks life works like a fairy tale.'Well, that’s harmless, isn’t it?'Yeah, but in fairy tales, when someone dies... it’s just a word.”

“The fairy tale, which to this day is the first tutor of children because it was once the first tutor of mankind, secretly lives on in the story. The first true storyteller is, and will continue to be, the teller of fairy tales. Whenever good counsel was at a premium, the fairy tale had it, and where the need was greatest, its aid was nearest. This need was created by myth. The fairy tale tells us of the earliest arrangements that mankind made to shake off the nightmare which myth had placed upon its chest.”

“We live in secret citiesAnd we travel unmapped roads.We speak words between us that we recognizeBut which cannot be looked up.They are our words.They come from very far inside our mouths.You and I, we are the secret citizens of the cityInside us, and inside usThere go all the cars we have drivenAnd seen, there are all the peopleWe know and have known, thereAre all the places that areBut which used to be as well. This is whereThey went. They did not disappear.We each take a piece Through the eye and through the ear.It's loud inside us, in there, and when we speakIn the outside worldWe have to hope that some of that soundDoes not come out, that an armNot reach outIn place of the tongue.”

“Over the past week, I’ve accepted that I will never love Julian as much as I loved Alex. But now that idea is overwhelming, like a wall between us. I will never love Julian like I love Alex.”

“The fairy tale belongs to the poor...I know of no fairy tale which upholds the tyrant, or takes the part of the strong against the weak. A fascist fairy tale is an absurdity.”