“Betsy liked to read her stories aloud and she read them like an actress. She made her voice low and thrillingly deep. She made it shake with emotion. She laughed mockingly and sobbed wildly when the occasion required.”

“From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.”

“She liked his tears so much that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it. Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies. ”

“["What happens to people when they die?"When she heard that, her grandmother made a sound that was not like a voice but a moan. And with a deep breath, she replied, "I don't know. To tell you the truth, I've never died."]”

“This boy who made her feel like she was twenty again. Made her feel ridiculous, yes, idiotic. Made her feel crazy and awkward and wild.”

“She threw back her head with a laugh that made her chins ripple like little waves.”