Lost in the Moment and Found (Wayward Children, #8)

by Seanan McGuire

She still didn’t like Tyler, not one bit, but now she felt like she understood why, and understanding a thing was the first step toward conquering it.

She was starting to feel that change was like cookies. One a night would be wonderful, but if you ate too many at one time, you’d wind up making yourself sick and not getting any cookies for a week.

Do you understand?” “Not even a little bit,” said Antsy. That appeared to be the correct answer,

“You’re a child. If an adult hurt you, that’s on them, not on you. Being bruised doesn’t make you bad, unless you’re a peach, and even a bruised peach is good for making jam.”

They’re as likely as not to think they’re on some sort of grand storybook adventure, and for them, saving the world and destroying it mean the same thing, as long as it comes to the same end.”

“A thing being good for you doesn’t make it a thing you want,”

the truth is often a blade on which to cut yourself,

addiction of novelty was real—