Now, you people have names. Thatʼs because you donʼt know who you are. We know who we are, so we donʼt need names.”
there was an old rose garden, filled with stunted, flyblown rosebushes; there was a rockery that was all rocks; there was a fairy ring[3], made of squidgy brown toadstools which smelled dreadful if you accidentally trod on them.
“Itʼs bucketing down[4].”
Oh— my twitchy witchy girl
I think you are so nice,
I give you bowls of porridge
And I give you bowls of ice
Cream.
I give you lots of kisses,
And I give you lots of hugs
It wasnʼt the same here without you.
Coraline wondered why so few of the adults she had met made any sense.
“Now, you people have names. Thatʼs because you donʼt know who you are. We know who we are, so we donʼt need names.”