“When the world you're used to, that same old world you thought you knew so well, turns itself suddenly upside down, what can you do? Everything comes tumbling off the shelves of your expectations; nothing fits anymore.”

“Everything's a wheel, turning and turning, never stopping. The frogs is part of it, and the bugs, and the fish, and the wood thrush, too. And people. But never the same ones. Always coming in new, always growing and changing, and always moving on. That's the way it's supposed to be. That's the way it is.”

“But it's enough, just having this day. It's the knowing there's something different, something special up there waiting. It's the knowing you could choose to change your days--climb up there and throw yourself right down the throat of the only and last and greatest terrible secret in the world. Except you don't climb up.”

“I'm not exactly sure what I'd do, you know, but something interesting - something that's all mine. Something that would make some kind of difference in the world. It'd be nice to have a new name, to start with, one that's not all worn out from being called so much.”

“Nothing seems interesting when it belongs to you, only when it doesn't."---Tuck Everlasting”

“Well, thought Winnie, crossing her arms on the windowsill, she was different. Things had happened to her that were hers alone, and had nothing to do with them. It was the first time. And no amount of telling about it could help them understand or share what she felt. It was satisfying and lonely, both at once.”

“How old are you, anyway?' she asked, squinting at him.There was a pause. At last he said, 'Why do you want to know?'I just wondered,' said Winnie.All right. I'm one hundred and four years old,' he told her solemnly.No, I mean really,' she persisted.Well then.' he said, 'if you must know, I'm seventeen.'Seventeen?'That's right.'Oh,' said Winnie hopelessly. 'Seventeen. That's old.'You have no idea,' he agreed with a nod.”