That was the thing about tragedy. It was just sitting there, keeping you company, waiting. And you had absolutely no idea. - Kate DiCamillo

There is no predicting what kind of sentences you might say, thought Flora. For instance, who would ever think you would shout, "You're going to vacuum up that squirrel!"?

Despereaux looked down at the book, and something remarkable happened. The marks on the pages, the "squiggles" as Merlot referred to them, arranged themselves into shapes. The shapes arranged themselves into words, and the words spelled out a delicious and wonderful phrase: Once upon a time

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.