“This voice had a quality to it, a monstrous quality, wild and untamed.”

“Who am I? the monster repeated, still roaring. I am the spine that the mountains hang upon! I am the tears that the rivers cry! I am the lungs that breathe the wind! I am the wolf that kills the stag, the hawk that kills the mouse, the spider that kills the fly! I am the stag, the mouse and the fly that are eaten! I am the snake of the world devouring its tail! I am everything untamed and untameable! It brought Conor up close to its eye. I am thils wild earth, come for you, Conor O'Malley."You look like a tree," Conor said.”

“Stories don't always have happy endings."This stopped him. Because they didn't, did they? That's one thing the monster had definitely taught him. Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.”

“Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.”

“There was his father, looking totally different but exactly the same.“Hey, son,” his dad said, his voice bending in that weird way that America had started to shape it.”

“Men do monstrous things but if you call a man a monster you have absolved yourself of blame. You don't have to think that you might ever do these things. I don't think that's true”

“Stories are wild creatures, the monster said. When you let them loose, who knows what havoc they might wreak?”