“But I liked the writing better. I could make it look beautiful. I could keep it. The spoken words just went out like the wind, and you always had to say them all over again to keep them alive. But the writing stayed, and you could learn to make it better. More beautiful.”

“You make me love books and the words inside them, because they talk about you. I know they do, they tell me that I love you, not as cliché as I write it, but in the warmest, deepest, calmest words I could ever read. I love you, like the books say it. And I'll find a better way to say it one day.”

“I never knew why or how writing could be so important until I learned about the no-talking rule and found that writing was the only way I could talk whenever I wanted. Writing always came to the rescue when I had to keep silent, and thereby became one of the greatest and most divine comforts I knew. What I couldn't say out loud I could always say in a note, letter, or journal first. And whenever I felt totally speechless, writing always allowed me to find the necessary words.”

“It's a world full of terror and beauty (here her writing became so small Meggie could hardly make it out) and I could always understand why Dustfinger felt homesick for it.The last sentence worried Meggie, but when she looked anxiously at her mother, Teresa smiled and reached for her hand. I was far, far more homesick for you two, she wrote on the palm of it, and Meggie closed her fingers over the words as if to hold them fast. She read them again and again on the long drive back to Elinor's house, and it was many days before they faded.”

“A beautiful and binding morningThe world outside begins to breatheSee clouds arriving without warningI need you here to shelter me.If I could make these moments endlessIf I could stop the winds of changeIf we just keep our eyes wide openThen everything would stay the sameAnd I know that only time will tell me howWe'll carry on without each otherSo keep me awake for every momentGive us more time to be this wayWe can't stay like this foreverBut I can have you next to me today”

“I could write paper people and I would love them too; I could make them almost real.”