“My misfortune is that I still resemble a man too much. I should liked to be wholly a beast like that goat. - Quasimodo”

“Why should you particularly like a man who resembles you? There is nothing in you to like; you know that.”

“But there are times when the little cloud spreads, until it obscures the sky. And those times I look around at my fellow men and I am reminded of some likeness of the beast-people, and I feel as though the animal is surging up in them. And I know they are neither wholly animal nor holy man, but an unstable combination of both.”

“This is what people were looking at all day? How embarrassing! I looked like Quasimodo! My guests were exceptional actors.”

“And the little prince broke into a lovely peal of laughter, which irritated me very much. I like my misfortunes to be taken seriously.”

“So my sister dances and the dead house burns, and I scrawl these few last words by the light of its burning. I know I should toss this story, too, on those flames. But I am still too much a storyteller -or at least a storykeeper-still too much my father's daughter to burn these pages.”