“Dad is looking at the bookshelves, deep in thought, deciding which book should go where. Once, Mom came home from work and discovered that he had turned all the books around so that the bindings were against the wall and the pages faced out. He said it was calming not to have all those words floating around and "creating static." Mom made him turn them back. She said it was too hard to find a book when she couldn't read the titles. Then she poured herself a big glass of wine.”

“She never said, "No, don't buy that trash," or "Pick a real book." She knew they were all real books. This is how great a librarian she was. And how great a mom.”

“I could feel her behind me. I knew she was there, but I didn't dare turn around. A book I read about sailing ships said that the lookout man sometimes couldn't see through the fog, but he could tell they were getting close to an iceberg when the air would turn cold. The air turned cold when Miz Ort came near, too. ”

“Colin emphatically pushed the book cover shut when he finished reading. "Did you like it?" His dad asked."Yup," Colin said. He liked all books, because he liked the mere act of reading, the magic of turning scratches on a page into words inside his head.”

“She had discovered with surprise and pleasure that as she turned each page, the book was written, as if for the first time, all over again.”

“Reluctantly Bastian's thoughts turned back to reality. He was glad the Neverending Story had nothing to do with that.He didn't like books in which dull, cranky writers describe humdrum events in the very humdrum lives of humdrum people. Reality gave him enough of that kind of thing, why should he read about it? Besides, he couldn't stand it when a writer tried to convince him of something. And these humdrum books, it seemed to him, were always trying to do just that.Bastian liked books that were exciting or funny, or that made him dream. Books where made-up characters had marvelous adventures, books that made him imagine all sorts of things.Because one thing he was good at, possibly the only thing, was imagining things so clearly that he almost saw and heard them.”