The House in the Cerulean Sea (Cerulean Chronicles, #1)

by T.J. Klune

Linus cleared his throat. “I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t know that I do. I’ve made mistakes, some bigger than others. But I…” He took a deep breath. “I heard something once. Something important, though I don’t think I knew just how important it actually was. A very wise person stood up in front of others, and though he was very nervous, he said the most profoundly beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Linus tried to smile, and it cracked right down the middle. He said, “I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”