“Logan didn't know what he'd been expecting to see- maybe some ground-up powder or specially aged cocoa beans from an exotic island. Instead, he saw their faces, full of anticipation, staring back up at him.”

“Don't be too hard on him," Henry said, opening the door for Logan. "Perhaps he's insecure in this new environment." Logan nodded, although it seemed as if Philip had made himself right at home, bossing everyone around like he owned the place. He remembered the paper in his pocked and pulled it out: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

“Why do you like books so much?” he asked. Miles answered without taking his face away from the window. “You never know what you’ll learn when you open one. And if it’s a story, you sort of fall into it. Then you live there for a while, instead of, you know, living here.”

“(T)he world is broken up into pieces, and...it's up to everyone to help put it all back together. It's about recognizing the spark of life in everyone and everything, and gluing those shards back together.”

“It's not an old book, or a treasure map. Nope. Staring up at me was a pile of rocks.”

“I'm sorry for the randomness of what I wrote, Mr. Oswald. There's been a lot to absorb.'Without looking up, he says, 'Never apologize for writing your truth, Mr. Fink. There are no right or wrong answers.”

“So softly Lizzy has to lean over to hear me, I say, 'I can't face the world until I know why I'm here.'You're kidding me.'I shake my head vehemently. 'No. I need to figure out my purpose. Until I do, what's the use of getting up?”