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The word “Ickabog” derives from “Ichabod,” meaning “no glory” or “the glory has departed.”
Sometimes, two people can tell each other more with a look than others could tell each other with a lifetime of words.
She tried to find comfort in the idea that, being no longer earthbound, her parents could live anywhere, including in her own heart, and that she must keep their memories alive inside her, like a flame.
You may think this strange, but Mrs. Beamish was glad to hear Mr. Dovetail cry, because tears can heal a mind, as well as laughter.
“I think people need hope nearly as much as Ickabogs do. But,” she said, placing her hand over her heart, “my mother and father are both still in here, and they always will be. So when you eat me, Ickabog, eat my heart last. I’d like to keep my parents alive as long as I can.”
Lies upon lies upon lies. Once you started lying, you had to continue, and then it was like being captain of a leaky ship, always plugging holes in the side to stop yourself sinking.
Sometimes — I don’t know how — people who live many miles apart seem to realize the time has come to act.
Perhaps we go through a kind of Bornding when we change, for better or for worse. All I know is that countries, like Ickabogs, can be made gentle by kindness, which is why the kingdom of Cornucopia lived happily ever after.
