“Through my kaleidoscope I can see next-door neighbors in next-door worlds and pretend they can see me, too. The next-door neighbors live like us and talk like us and feel like us, but they don’t act like us or look like us or think like us. If a grown-up saw my next-door neighbors in their next-door world, instead of a handshake held out, there’d be a nickname called out.”

“You can’t fan the heat of problems; they boil and bubble and burn. The only way to stop the pot from boiling over is to take away the fire.”

“When the stars have sparkled their last and the dance has come to its final note, will you love me enough to remind me what I’ve lost?”

“The mermaids murmur, the fairies flutter, the trees tell the tale of the princess who rides the Sun-laid path. She takes her rest upon the river bank, with naiad maids, and takes the Sun’s embrace. For when the Sun reminds you of dandelions and the rays leave stars in your eyes, is it not better to swim and be enveloped in the warmth than to walk upon it and forget the feeling beneath your toes?”

“Burst forth, new life, for I am the Sun and the Moon, the giver and the keeper of life, the beginning and ending of all things, she to whom the green of Earth bends to meet, and I command thee, burst forth!”

“The bouquet of the day, plucked from the fields before the woods, lay upon the wooden floor, its summer magic disappeared among the petals and fallen buds”

“Flower green upon the bank, why do your leaves grow gray? The sun above, it’s rays shine bright, and yet your petals fray.”

“Can you see the nymphs laughing? Can you see them as they smile? Can you see them, little groundling? Can you see their wit and guile?”

“Though she watches, and she smiles upon those who hope; though she watches from above, she cannot take part.”

“To pass through their world, the old man said, the curtain must be lifted from your eyes … The curtain, the curtain, it hides the magnificent truth that magic is always in front of you – hiding, waiting, watching. Are you worth lifting that heavy veil?”

“When the sun is high and the breeze is low, the trees can whisper and giggle and glow. If your quill is quick and your mind open, the stories will flutter onto the page through the ink onto the parchment.”