They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true; we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.

He'd said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad.

A huntress never stabbed anything she didn't want to.

Don’t let them see you weak.

Dying isn’t like living; it requires no effort at all.

A divided heart offers a strange sensation.

If I ever win you," he said, anger bright in his pale eyes, "it will be because you want me more. Not because he's gone. I'm nobody's second best.