At each step there is a small moment of transformation that cannot be overlooked or rushed. And these moments should not be, because they are beautiful.

— Anne Ursu

He could still escape—the fear was in front of him, and all he had to do was wrench free and run in the other direction. But he kept walking forward, straight into its embrace.

— Anne Ursu

He's gone now. He did something terrible, but...he did good things, too. And he kept us well. And it's all right if you are sad.

— Anne Ursu

His words sounded foolish to his own ears. He was not impressive. He was small like the world.

— Anne Ursu

Hugging himself, Oscar leaned against the pantry wall. For two days all he had wanted was for Caleb to come back, and now he was back and Oscar had made a mess of things: he had angered half the customers and confused the other half, and the coin boxes did not look as they should, and [rich, noble] people were complaining about him, and he couldn't look at anybody, and [redacted] was dead, and Oscar was odd.' What if he doesn't keep me?

— Anne Ursu

If shadows were caused by the interplay between light and Life, a child's was still forming. An adult's was inextricably bound to his body, but a child had a tenuous relationship to his own permanence, and thus, his own shadow.

— Anne Ursu

It was a beautiful lie that they had all been telling themselves—that you could have magic without monsters.

— Anne Ursu

Now, the world is more than it seems to be. You know this, of course, because you read stories. You understand that there is the surface and then there are all the things that glimmer and shift underneath it. And you know that not everyone believes in those things, that there are people—a great many people—who believe the world cannot be any more than what they can see with their eyes. But we know better.

— Anne Ursu

Oscar did not know what he was supposed to be feeling right now, what all the adults behind him would be expecting him to feel. He did not even know what he was, in fact, feeling. Except, whatever it was, it was a lot. Too much. More than bodies could hold.

— Anne Ursu

Oscar leaned in, eyes wide. 'He's keeping me,' he whispered to the kitten. Pebble chirped. Oscar's eyes flicked to the books underneath his bed. They called out to him: Misfit. Orphan. Idiot. Oscar coughed and shifted his eyes back to Pebble. 'He thinks I can work the shop. ... He said he knew I could do it.' Wolf: He didn't see you work the shop. He doesn't know. Just wait until he hears.' He wants me to do the best I can.' Wolf: If only he knew how bad that was. He'll know soon. Oscar clenched his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut. ... 'I'm not going to disappoint him,' Oscar said. He repeated himself once more, in case the words themselves had any power. 'I'm not.

— Anne Ursu