“And I will love words for their own sake, like 'hyacinth' and 'Piccadilly' and 'onyx.' And I'll have a good old dog, and think what I like, and be part of a different sort of family, with friends, you know? - who understand that things are only worth what you're willing to give up for them.”

“It's supposed to hurt - that's how you know it meant something!”

“In my experience, boys’re sadly slow thinkers.”

“What if it lines up like it did in the Trojan War ... Athena versus Poseidon?""I don't know. But I just know that I'll be fighting next to you.""Why?""Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?”

“She blinked. "Hmm? Oh, don't care. What did Anubis look like to you?""What did... he looked like a guy. So?""A good-looking guy, or a slobbering dog-headed guy?""I guess... Not the dog-headed guy.""I knew it!" Sadie pointed at me as if she'd won an argument."Good-looking. I knew it!"And with a ridiculous grin, she spun around and skipped into the house. My sister, as I may have mentioned, is a little strange.”

“A dog creates, transcribes, a new landscape for you. A dog like Colter sharpens your joy of all the seasons, and for a while, sometimes a long while, such a dog seems capable, by himself alone, of holding time in place--of pinning it, and holding it taught. And then when he is gone, it is as if the world is taken away.Dogs like that are young for what seems like a very long time....One you have lost a dog--especially the first you trained from a pup, the one you first set sail into the world with--you can never fully give of yourself to another dog. You can never again look at a dog you love without hedging a tiny bit, if only subconsciously, against the day when that dog, too, must leave. You can never again hunt or enter the future so recklessly, so joyously, with that weight of forethought....As I sleep restlessly, night after night, or more often, as I lie there awake, I can see him running and I feel guilty that I am not there to honor the birds he is finding... One way or the other, he is still out there running. He will never rest.... I will always want him to know a moment's rest, and peace, and he will always know in his hot heart that the only peace to be gotten is by never resting, by always pushing on. He is my Colter.... I am still his, and he is still mine.”

“I assure you, Constable Morgan, I am quite sane, as I understand the word, perhaps the sanest person in this room, for I suffer from no illusions. I have freed myself, you see, from the pretense that burdens most men. Much like our prey, I do not impose order where there is none; I do not pretend there is any more than what there is, or that you and I are anything more than what we are. That is the essence of their beauty, Morgan, the aboriginal purity of their being, and why I admire them.”