Before I had a chance to feel too sorry for myself, I turned toward the front of the cabin and found the bookcases carved right into the wall. Hundreds of leather-bound volumes rested in dim alcoves. I had no idea what stories or information they held. It didn’t matter. I wanted to absorb anything they had to say.

The poor will look for many excuses why an idea can not be born, but the rich will also look for one excuse why an idea can be born.

Chase every rung of possibility, and you still get absolutely nowhere.

We danced forever, and not nearly long enough. Now that I faced him, I could touch him, too, rather than self-consciously drip through his fingers. I explored his back, fingertips discovering ridges of his spine, muscles, a place below his left shoulder blade that made him writhe, as if struggling not to laugh. I tickled him again, devouring the sensation of his chest against my cheek.

You just go right up to anything and talk to it, don’t you?" Sam closed his eyes and smiled. “I love that about you.

Shrikes were songbirds; he ought to know.