“It was always late at night, when everything and everyone else was quiet, that those voices would rise like ghosts, soft and haunting, filling your mind until sleep finally came.”

“Quiet night that brings
Rest to the labourer, is the outlaw's day,
In which he rises early to do wrong,
And when his work is ended, dares not sleep.”

“This was how I was dealing with everyone and everything lately, taking the good when it came, and the bad the same way, knowing each would pass in its own time.”

“Today begins my walk with you." They spoke together, their voices sounding softly in the cold air. "Where you go, I go. Where you stay, I stay. When you sleep, I will sleep. When you rise, I will rise. I will pass my days within the sound of your voice, and my nights within the reach of your hand. And none shall come between us.”

“He would work through the night and sleep until lunch. There wasn't really much else to do. Make something, and die.”

“In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
That snores when you pick it up.
If the ghost cries, they carry it
To their lips and soothe it to sleep
With sounds. And yet, they wake it up
Deliberately, by tickling with a finger.”

“In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.”

“I learnt another valuable lesson that night: listen to the quiet voice inside. Intuition is the noise of the mind.”

“At night, here in the library, the ghosts have voices.”

“Blooming under a cold moon, we are like fireworks…
Rising, shining, and finally scattering and fading.
So until that moment comes when we vanish like fireworks…
Lets us sparkle brightly,
Always…”