“My skin's too white." she said.Says who, Snow White?" he said, touching her cheek lightly with one hand.”

“skin white as snow, hair black as night...”

“Blanche reached out and clung to her sister's hand. Rose felt her thin mittened fingers clutching her own. She knew her sister was beginning to be frightened. But Rose was too caught up in the mystery to be afraid. She strained to hear the enchanted song Bear was listening to. Her heart was pounding, but to the rhythm of a marching drum, not fear. There was a sense of purpose here, and although she did not understand it, she rejoiced to be a part of it.”

“She remembered that once, when she was a little girl, she had seen a pretty young woman with golden hair down to her knees in a long flowered dress, and had said to her, without thinking, "Are you a princess?" The girl had laughed very kindly at her and asked her what her name was. Blanche remembered going away from her, led by her mother's hand, thinking to herself that the girl really was a princess, but in disguise. And she had resolved that someday, she would dress as though she were a princess in disguise.”

“I'm not afraid," she said defensively. Now he seemed humored. "Of course. You're not afraid of anything. At least you think you're not. That's why I'm sending you home." Thank you for your advice." Rose thrust her chin in the air and marched away, not looking back. She was almost sure she heard him laughing softly behind her.”

“I shall have twenty cats and talk to them all," she said, picking up the volume of poetry. "My cats and I shall have fish every day for dinner." Her imagination taking flight, she finished, dropping the book into the box, "And I shall memorize every line in this book and paint it in calligraphy on my living room walls.”

“I think that if a real princess was lost in this modern world and she could be whatever she wanted, she would be a musician,' Blanche said slowly. 'A violinist, or a harpist. That would be the only place where she could find solace for her lost kingdom.”