But," expostulated Josiah Worthington. "But. A human child. A living child. I mean. I mean, I mean. This is a graveyard, not a nursery, blast it.

It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.

Someone killed my Mother and my Father and my Sister?"
"Yes, someone did."
"A Man?"
"A Man."
"Which means," said Bod, "you're asking the wrong question."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well," said Bod. "If I go outside in the world, the question isn't who will keep me safe from him?"
"No?"
"No. It's who will keep him safe from me?

Rattle his bones
over the stones
its only a pauper
who nobody owns

It was as if some people believed there was a divide between the books that you were permitted to enjoy and the books that were good for you, and I was expected to choose sides. We were all expected to choose sides. And I didn't believe it, and I still don't.

I was, and still am, on the side of books you love.

She prays she's bought another clutch of days. We save our lives in such unlikely ways.