Her mother carefully turned over four slices of French toast, then said in a steady voice, “No Meg. Don’t hope it was a dream. I don’t understand it any more than you do, but one thing I’ve learned is that you don’t have to understand things for them to be.”

Mrs. Murry comforts Meg with these words at the beginning of Chapter 2, following the previous night’s strange visit from Mrs. Whatsit. Though Mrs. Murry is referring to the oddities of Mrs. Whatsit’s appearance and near omniscience, as well as Charles Wallace’s connection to her, this quote alludes to Meg’s overarching exploration of true knowledge throughout the novel. When the story begins, Meg is riddled with insecurity and frustration, made worse by her frequent visits to the principal's office at school. She struggles in her classes, though it is clear she is quite intelligent, made obvious at many moments in the story, like when Mrs. Murry tells Calvin that Meg and her father used to “play with numbers,” and her unique understanding of math sets her at a disadvantage against her classmates.

As the story unfolds, Meg travels through time and space and meets many characters whose forms and qualities are outside the conventions of typical understanding, like Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, the Happy Medium, and Aunt Beast. Meg also struggles to fully grasp the concept of a tesseract, but she travels by tessering, fully immersed in something she does not understand. Ultimately, when Meg appoints herself to rescue Charles Wallace, she admits that she does not understand him, but he understands her. She realizes that she must come to terms with her inability to know everything, and she must accept how unanswered curiosity can be a strange yet beautiful gift.

Mrs. Whatsit was not speaking aloud, and yet through the wings Meg understood words. “My child, do not despair. Do you think we would have brought you here if there were no hope? We are asking you to do a difficult thing, but we are confident that you can do it.”

Mrs. Whatsit comforts Meg with these thoughts, spoken through the beating of her magnificent wings, alluding to one of the most important ideas in the story: good can overcome evil. The presence of hope is an essential part of the novel, and as children, the protagonists have a special ability to hope for rescue and redemption, especially when hopelessness seems to lurk around every corner. Mrs. Whatsit's words set the tone for the rest of the quest, forecasting the trials ahead but anchoring the future with her confidence in Meg’s abilities. This quotation comes right after the children have seen The Black Thing for the first time and realize this evil force is what holds their father captive. In the jarring presence of the antagonist, these words bring steady yet sobering encouragement and ready Meg, Calvin, and Charles Wallace for what lies ahead.

“You mean you’re comparing our lives to a sonnet? A strict form, but freedom within it?” “Yes," Mrs. Whatsit said. “You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.”

With this analogy, Mrs. Whatsit teaches Meg and Calvin about the power of individuality, choice, and bravery. Right before Meg travels back to Camazotz to rescue Charles Wallace, Mrs. Whatsit bestows this wisdom, reminding Meg of a truth that already seems to dwell within her: she must make the choice to save Charles Wallace, and only she can know the words of her sonnet, so to speak. Meg’s unique abilities and lack of conformity are the very qualities that equip her for the act of bravery required, and Mrs. Whatsit’s comparison of life to a sonnet illuminates this power of individuality. In writing, as in life, the individual is the one to choose the words that fill the form, and Mrs. Whatsit emphasizes that though Meg may be held in by the boundaries and restrictions of humanity, her life can take the shape she chooses through her decisions and the power of her words. Meg’s victorious declaration of love in the final moments of the story is foreshadowed by this quotation, which suggests the power and possibility of words.

“You know that’s the reason you’re not happy at school. Because you’re different.” “I’m different, and I’m happy,” Calvin said. “But you pretend that you aren’t different.” “I’m different and I like being different.” Calvin’s voice was unnaturally loud. “Maybe I don’t like being different,” Meg said, “but I don’t want to be like everybody else, either.”

Charles Wallace, under the evil control of IT, accuses Calvin of being isolated and unhappy, attempting to justify the ideology embodied on the planet Camazotz. Calvin and Meg’s responses are slightly divergent but collectively harmonious, in their simultaneous realizations that being different is a freeing gift, and conformity can be a prison, clearly illustrated in the forced homogeny on Camazotz. This moment for Meg is quite significant, as her desire to be like everyone else for the sake of fitting in is turned upside down, and she begins to grasp the lesson that will yield a great moment of triumph. The thing she fears makes her unloveable and odd—her individuality—is actually what makes her special and yields admiration from Calvin and many others. Ultimately, the unique abilities and differences in each of the children are the very things that equip them in the battle against evil, and what they considered their greatest weaknesses prove to be their greatest strengths.

“But that’s exactly what we have on Camazotz. Complete equality. Everybody exactly alike.” For a moment her brain reeled with confusion. Then came a moment of blazing truth. “No!” she cried triumphantly. “Like and equal are not the same thing at all!”

In Chapter 9, Meg responds to the IT-possessed Charles Wallace’s declaration that everyone on Camazotz is alike and equal, and this equality is why they are happy. This quote falls within the rising action of the plot, as the main characters move closer to the rescue of Mr. Murry. Having been taken under the hypnosis of IT by the Man with the Red Eyes, Charles Wallace is speaking to the ideology that pulsates within IT’s rhythm. This ideology assumes that “alike” means identical and “equal” means sameness—all citizens of Camazotz possess the same opportunities, knowledge, and resources. The capital city on Camazotz is described as the most “oriented” city on the planet, which really means it is the most programmed to robotic perfection. If anyone is different or makes a mistake, such as falling out of rhythm or getting sick, they are annihilated by the terrifying machines that keep the city in order. When Meg combats this idea that “like” and “equal” are the same, she means that similar things or people can be very unequal, and that true equality must account for those differences. The planet Camazotz is an illustration of the horrors that come from implementing forced societal conformity, and Meg’s assertion fights for the power of individuality, and the value of recognizing the difference between likeness and equality.