“I play the radio and moon about...and dream of Utopias where its always July the 24th 1935, in the middle of summer forever.”

“When I try to picture heaven, I see a place where it's always December, every radio station plays hair bands, and every time I check my pockets they're full of Hershey's Kisses. There's a Christmas parade on every street, every day is my birthday, and the sun always sets at 4:58 p.m.”

“Life isn’t a music player where you choose whats being played, it is a radio where you have to enjoy whats being played.”

“...I don't understand this gap you see between us, but can't you meet me somewhere in the middle?" "The middle of what?" "I don't know, the middle of tomorrow and forever, the middle of life and death, the middle of normal and paranormal. Where we've always been." I bit my lip, nodding against his forehead. "There's a place for us there, right?" "Always." He put his lips to mine, sealing our own little spot in the world. Together.”

“So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.”

“And yet ...But what if ...I want to do something impossible. Something astounding and unheard of. I want to scrub the moss off the Space Shuttle and fly Julie to the moon and colonise it, or float a capsized cruise ship to some distant island where no one will protest us, or just harness the magic that brings me into the brains of the Living and use it to bring Julie into mine, because it's warm in here, it's quiet and lovely, and in here we aren't an absurd juxtaposition, we are perfect.”