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"Beautiful songs could sometimes take a person out of themselves and carry them away to a place of magic. But when Jill sang, it was not about the song, really. She could sing the phone book. She could sing a shopping list. Whatever she sang, whatever the words or the tune, it was so beautiful, so achingly lovely, that no one could listen and be untouched."
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"And it seemed at last that there were two musics progressing at one time before the seat of IlAovatar, and they were utterly at variance. The one was deep and wide ad beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow from which its beauty chiefly came."

"The kind of poem I produced in those days was hardly anything more than a sign I made of being alive, of passing or having passed, or hoping to pass, through certain intense human emotions. It was a phenomenon of orientation rather than of art, thus comparable to stripes of paint on a roadside rock or to a pillared heap of stones marking a mountain trail. But then, in a sense, all poetry is positional: to try to express one's position in regard to the universe embraced by consciousness, is an immemorial urge. Tentacles, not wings, are Apollo's natural members. Vivian Bloodmark, a philosophical friend of mine, in later years, used to say that while the scientist sees everything that happens in one point of space, the poet feels everything that happens in one point of time."

"The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness."

"Let music ignite your vivid inner colors and bring you harmony inside and out."

"A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual."

"The effort of art is to keep what is interesting in existence, to recreate it in the eternal."
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"God knew our lives would be really bad sometimes. Like maybe we'd be turned into a monster and then our best friend would get killed. So he made up this story about hell, so we could always say, 'Well it could be worse. It could be hell.' And then we'd keep going."

"Too bad we don't have marshmallows. This is an amazing fire." Howard emerged through the smoke behind Edilio."

"We were girls, you see, not even women, just girls, most of us when we started. And the boys were just boys, not men, most of them. We'd only begun to live life, we knew little and understood less. We were unformed, incomplete. It's funny how easy it is to see that now. If you'd called me a child three years ago when this started I'd have been furious. But looking back? We were children just getting ready to figure out what adulthood was all about."

"We're fighting for unhappiness?" Noah asked skeptically. "It sounds a bit crazy when you put it that way."Nijinsky laughed, delighted. "Oh, it is." Then, serious again, he said, "We fight for the right to be what we choose,to feel what we choose. Even if what we choose seems crazy to others.""If it's all the same to you, I'll fight for revenge," Sadie said.Nijinsky's eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. That's fine with me."

"Caine erupted in disbelieving laughter. "Yeah, that'll do it. 'I'm just a kid, Your Honor!' Hah. They'll have to find a few scapegoats, and guess who it will be? You and me, surfer boy. You and me."

"And then the turbines generate electricity that goes into the whole town.""You mean they aren't powered by giant hamsters on wheels? I was misinformed."

"The light of day showed you the limits of possibility. But walk through the dark, the absolute, total darkness, and the possibilities were limitless."

"Deep down, she's a good person, Diana is," Caine said, and sighed. "Deep down, I'm not. But she is."

"When she came back down, Sam and Astrid had arrived.Sam hugged Dekka, and the two of them stayed that way for a long time, saying nothing. Both had loved Brianna.To Edilio, Sam said, "I'm so sorry, man. I wish I'd . . . You know what I wish.Edilio fought back a fresh rush of tears, nodded, waited until he was sure he could speak, and said, "I'm glad you're back, boss."
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