“I really didn't mean to steal it." Mr. Williams shook his head. He scratched at his chin nervously. "Why not? That's what they're there for. Tunes belong to everybody. So do stories.”

“I'm not lying to you," she said, shaking her head. "I really can't do it.""You can and you must," they snapped. "Those stories belong to us. It doesn't matter what language they're in, or what they're about; they belong to us. And we gave them to you without looking at them first. So now it's time to see what we've done.”

“He shook his head. “No. Because there's no one else out there who understands you like I do.”I waited for more. “That's it? You're not going to elaborate on what that means?”Those green eyes held me. “I don't think I need to.”

“Conor shook his head. "That's a terrible story. And a cheat." "It is a true story," the monster said. "Many things that are true feel like a cheat.”

“I can't imagine why you're so interested."He shook his head. "Interested? We're talking about you. I'm fascinated.”

“So what are you going to tell her?""A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"He shook his head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair.""No, you not sharing what you know-now that's not fair.”