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350 pages, Hardcover
First published May 20, 2014
“Ma and Da believed that if you suspected a monster was hiding under your bed, you should get down on your hands and knees and find out for certain. And if you were lucky enough to discover one down there—fangs dripping, eyes glowing red—you should be quick to offer him a blanket and a bowl of warm milk so he wouldn’t catch a chill.”
“The branch was dark and smooth and slightly curved. It wasn’t a branch at all— It was the handle of an axe.”
“It was like I could feel it Molls, right behind me. I turned around, and there, in the fog… for half a heartbeat, I thought I saw someone there, watchin’ me.”
“Don't confuse what you do with who you are, dearie. Besides, there's no shame in humble work. Why, Aesop himself, the king of storytellers, was a slave his whole life. Never drew a free breath, yet he shaped the world with just three small words: there once was. And where are his great masters now, hmm? Rotting in tombs, if they're lucky. But Aesop—he still lives to this day, dancin' on the tip of every tongue that's ever told a tale. Think on that, next time you're scrubbing floors.”
“ “Kip, I said that to protect us. It was just a story.”
“Was it? … Do they count as stories if the other person thinks they’re true?” ”
“You asked me for a story; now you call it a lie. … So tell me, then: What marks the difference between the two?”
“There’s no better place for writing than on a rooftop—the fresh air makes your words come out like songs.”