“Everything about her in that moment was soft, and that was one of his favorite memories later on--her tense grace made tender by the dimness, her eyes and hands and especially her lips, infinitely soft. He kissed her again and again, and each kiss was nearer to the last one of all.Heavy and soft with love, they walked back to the gate. Mary and Serafina were waiting."Lyra--" Will said.And she said, "Will."He cut a window into Cittàgazze. They were deep in the parkland around the great house, not far from the edge of the forest. He stepped through for the last time and looked down over the silent city, the tiled roofs gleaming in the moonlight, the tower above them, the lighted ship waiting out on the still sea.He turned to Serafina and said as steadily as he could, "Thank you, Serafina Pekkala, for rescuing us at the belvedere, and for everything else. Please be kind to Lyra for as long as she lives. I love her more than anyone has ever been loved.”

“So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.”

“She turned away. Behind them lay pain and death and fear; ahead of them lay doubt, and danger, and fathomless mysteries. But they weren’t alone.So Lyra and her dæmon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.”

“Lee saw the fireball and head through the roar in his ears Hester saying, "That's the last of 'em Lee."He said, or thought, "Those poor men didn't have to come to this, nor did we."She said, "We held 'em off. We held out. We're a-helping Lyra."Then she was pressing her little proud broken self against his face, as close as she could get, and then they died.”

“He only stopped walking when his arms were around her and his mouth was on hers. She made a surprised little squeak, but oh, God, her lips were so soft, and he kissed her hard, too hard, maybe, one hand sliding through her silky, cool hair, gripping the back of her head, a kiss that reached right in and clamped his heart in a fist…the taste of her, the smell of her, her softness melded against him. The kind of kiss that ruined a man.Then he let her go, turned around and left her standing on the dock, one hand over her lips, her dog standing at her side.”

“Lyra learns to her great cost that fantasy isn’t enough. She has been lying all her life, telling stories to people, making up fantasies, and suddenly she comes to a point where that’s not enough. All she can do is tell the truth. She tells the truth about her childhood, about the experiences she had in Oxford, and that is what saves her. True experience, not fantasy - reality, not lies - is what saves us in the end.”

“And then what?" said her daemon sleepily. "Build what?""The Republic of Heaven," said Lyra.”