“The hemulen woke up slowly and recognised himself and wished he had been someone he didn't know.”

“He didn't remember, he didn't worry, he just was.”

“But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.”

“Smell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been through; it is a sheath of memories and security.”

“Small animals are a great problem. I wish God had never created small animals, or else that He had made them so they could talk, or else that He'd given them better faces. Space. Take moths. They fly at the lamp and burn themsleves, and then they fly right back again. It can't be instinct, because it isn't the way it works. They just don't understand, so they go right on doing it. Then they lie on their backs and all their legs quiver, and then they're dead. Did you get all that? Does it sound good?""Very good," Grandmother said.Sophia stood up and shouted, "Say this: say I hate everything that dies slow! Say I hate everything that won't let you help! Did you write that?”

“Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.”

“It's funny about love', Sophia said. 'The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.''That's very true,' Grandmother observed. 'And so what do you do?''You go on loving,' said Sophia threateningly. 'You love harder and harder.”