“She thought how sharp words could sting when they held the truth.”

“When the monster struck a blow, Conor felt the sting of it in his own fist. When the monster held Harry's arm behind his back, Conor had felt Harry's muscles resisting. Resisting, but not winning. Because how could a boy beat a monster?”

“She didn't say it, I only thought she said it. So really it was my thought, my words, and not hers. How could I confuse "I love you" with "May I take your order?”

“She thought about her life and how lost she’d felt for most of it. She thought about the way that all truths she’d been taught to consider valuable invariably conflicted with the world as it was actually lived. How could a person be so utterly lost, yet remain living?”

“She is a cat," he thought. "That's all she is—a cat!"But that was not how his mind saw her—quick beyond all dreams of speed, sharp, clever, unbelievably graceful, beautiful, wordless and undemanding.Where would he ever find a woman who could compare with her?”

“How can I fault her for trying to bury a truth that when exposed to air and sunlight could only hurt the ones she loves?”