“Think all you speak, but speak not all you think. Thoughts are your own; your words are so no more.”

“It is a magic book. Words mean things. When you put them together they speak. Yes, sometimes they flatten out and nothing they say is real, and that is one kind of magic. But sometimes a vision will rip up from them and shriek and clank wings clear as the sweat smudge on the paper under your thumb. And that is another kind.”

“You do not write your life with words...You write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.”

“Max,' I said, looking up at him, 'I love the Russian heritage you guys are so willing to share, but I'm not so thrilled with the French.''What?' His brows lowered. 'We're not French.''Great. So the next time you feel the need to kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth!”

“Forget conventionalisms; forget what the world thinks of you stepping out of your place; think your best thoughts, speak your best words, work your best works, looking to your own conscience for approval.”

“... I don't think we get too many choices in life.... I like knowing - and I like you knowing - I chose you.”

“I thrust Sophie into a corner, blocking her with my body. She panted and snagged her lower lip in her teeth. “This is not my life,” she insisted.I looked at her solemnly. “I’m afraid it is. But it doesn’t have to be for long. Let’s just get through this. Then things go back to normal for you.”“Like they keep going back to normal for you?” Sophie hissed. “Ghost of your mother, psycho ex-best friend, company agent dating your dad, psychic vampire ex-boyfriend, werewolf current boyfriend—by the way, I can’t blame you for that one,” she confessed, eyes round as she mouthed the word whoa before continuing with her list, “Trip to the asylum, attempts against your life, vigilante father…”“Hey, the last ones are brand new. And the vigilante father thing? He’ll revert.”“Anyhow, I’m not so keen on your concept of normal.” I caught her staring at me.”