It's A Cruel World, Don't You Think?

She Is A Real Bookworm. I Think She Lives On Print. Her Whole House Is Full Of Books - Looks As If She Likes Them Better Than Human Company.

The Heart Was A Weak, Changeable Thing, Bent On Nothing But Love, And There Could Be No More Fatal Mistake Than To Make It Your Master. Reason Must Be In Charge. It Comforted You For The Heart's Foolishness, It Sang Mocking Songs About Love, Derided It As A Whim Of Nature, Transient As Flowers. So Why Did She Still Keep Following Her Heart?

The Truth's Not Pretty Of Course. No One Likes To Look It In The Face.

Where Did The Love Come From? What Was It Made Of?

Life Was More Difficult In Inkheart, Yet It Seemed To Meggie That With Every New Day Fenoglio's Story Was Spinning A Magic Spell Around Her Heart, Sticky As A Spider's Web And Enchantingly Beautiful.