The Night Circus - favorite quotes

"The bonfire ignites in an eruption of yellow flame.
Then the second chime follows, and they become a clear sky-blue.
A third chime with a third arrow, and the flames are a warm bright pink.
Flames the color of a ripe pumpkin follow the fourth arrow.
A fifth, and the flames are scarlet-red.
A sixth brings a deeper, sparkling crimson.
Seven, and the fire is soaked in a color like an incandescent wine.
Eight, and the flames are shimmering violet.
Nine, and violet shifts to indigo.
A tenth chime, a tenth arrow, and the bonfire turns deepest midnight blue.
On the penultimate chime, the dancing flames change from blue to black, and for the moment, it is difficult to discern the fire from its cauldron.
And on the final strike, the dark flames are replaced with a blinding white, a shower of sparks falling like snowflakes around it.  Huge curls of dense white smoke swirl up into the night sky." pg. 120

"'Secrets have power,' Widget begins. 'And the power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well.  Sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them.  Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be with it.  So it's really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.'" pg. 226

"'So by losing his secrets, the wizard gained immortality.  His tree stood long after the clever young girl was old and no longer beautiful, and in a way, he became greater and stronger than he had ever been before.  Though if he were given the chance to do it all over again, he likely would have been more careful with his secrets.'" pg. 228

"'Call me by my name,' he says.  He has never heard her speak his name and holding her in his arms he suddenly craves the sound. 'Please,' he adds when she hesitates.

"'Marco,' she says, her voice low and soft.  The sound of his name on her tongue is even more intoxicating than he had imagined, and he leans in to taste it." pg. 349

"'I've tried,' Marco says, cupping her face in his hands. 'I have tried to let you go and I cannot.  I cannot stop thinking of you.  I cannot stop dreaming about you.  Do you not feel the same for me?'

"'I do,' Celia says.  'I have you here, all around me.  I sit in the ice Garden to get a hint of this, this way that you make me feel.  I felt it even before I knew who you were, and every time I think it could not possibly get any stronger, it does.'" pg. 352

"Inside, the train is opulent, gilded, and warm.  Most of the passenger cars are lined with thick patterned carpets, upholstered in velvets in burgundies and violets and creams, as though they have been dipped in a sunset, hovering at twilight and holding on to the colors before they fade to midnight and stars." pg. 402

"It would be like pulling the Murray twins apart and expecting them to be the same.  They would be whole but not complete." pg. 459

"'There are no more battles between good and evil, no monsters to slay, no maidens in need of rescue.  Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.'" pg. 497

"'They are the circus.  You can hear his footsteps in the Labyrinth.  You can smell her perfume in the Cloud Maze.  It's marvelous.'

'You think being imprisoned marvelous?'

'It's a matter of perspective,' Widget says.  'They have each other.  They are confined within a space that is remarkable, one that can, and will, grow and change around them.  In a way, they have the world, bound only by his imagination.'" pg. 502

"'He was seeking immortality, which is a terrible thing to seek.  It is not seeking anything, but rather avoiding the unavoidable.  He will grow to despise that state if he does not already.  I hope my student and your teacher are more fortunate.'

'You mean. . . you hope they can die?' Widget asks.

'I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.'" pg. 503

"'Someone needs to tell those tales.  When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative.  There's magic in that.  It's in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict.  From the mundane to the profound.  You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose.  That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words.  That is your role, your gift.  Your sister may be able to see the future, but you yourself can shape it, boy.  Do not forget that.'  He takes another sip of his wine.  'There are many kinds of magic, after all.'" pg. 505