“Highly unlikely but not impossible.”

“Fly you high.”

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!”

“I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away.”

“Go to sleep," he says softly. His hand brushes the lose strands of my hair off my forehead. Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don't want him to stop and he doesn't. He's still stroking my hair when I fall asleep.”

“They hadn’t counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild, to pass on its genetic code, to thrive in a new form. They hadn’t anticipated its will to live.”

“My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in.”