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She’d read the dictionary all the way through. No one told her you weren’t supposed to.
They went to sleep under the stars, which the math teachers would count, the astronomy teachers would measure, and the literature teachers would name. The geography teachers got lost in the woods and fell into bear traps.
“Zoology, eh? That’s a big word, isn’t it.” “No, actually it isn’t,” said Tiffany. “Patronizing is a big word. Zoology is really quite short.”
And it didn’t stop being magic just because you found out how it was done.
Nothing’s louder than the end of a song that’s always been there.
That’s the trouble with a brain—it thinks more than you sometimes want it to.
“Them as can do has to do for them as can’t. And someone has to speak up for them as has no voices.”
“The secret is not to dream,” she whispered. “The secret is to wake up. Waking up is harder. I have woken up and I am real. I know where I come from and I know where I’m going. You cannot fool me anymore. Or touch me. Or anything that is mine.”
No wonder we dream our way through our lives. To be awake, and see it all as it really is . . . no one could stand that for long.
“The thing about witchcraft,” said Mistress Weatherwax, “is that it’s not like school at all. First you get the test, and then afterward you spend years findin’ out how you passed it. It’s a bit like life in that respect.”
