Time Has No Meaning. I Feel As

I Am For Hockey. I Find I Should Like To Hit Something With A Stick. -gemma Doyle Trilogy

I'm Sorry, Gemma. But We Can't Live In The Light All Of The Time. You Have To Take Whatever Light You Can Hold Into The Dark With You.

It Occurs To Me That Cricket Is Not The True Sport In London - Gossip Is.

She Was Too Much—for Zenith, Ohio. She’d Tried At Times To Make Herself Smaller, To Fit Neatly Into The Ordered Lines Of Expectation. But Somehow, She Always Managed To Say Or Do Something Outrageous—she’d Accept A Dare To Climb A Flagpole, Or Make A Slightly Risqué Joke, Or Go Riding In Cars With Boys—and Suddenly She Was “that Awful O’neill Girl” All Over Again.

We Create The Illusions We Need To Go On. And One Day, When They No Longer Dazzle Or Comfort, We Tear Them Down, Brick By Glittering Brick, Until We Are Left With Nothing But The Bright Light Of Honesty. The Light Is Liberating. Necessary. Terrifying. We Stand Naked And Emptied Before It. And When It Is Too Much For Our Eyes To Take, We Build A New Illusion To Shield Us From Its Relentless Truth.