Old Magic, Old Ways, the Old Ones themselves often seem powerless in a new place.

A Child of Happiness always seems like an old soul living in a new body, and her face is very serious until she smiles, and then the sun lights up the world. ... Children of Happiness always look not quite the same as other children. They have strong, straight legs and walk with purpose. They laugh as do all children, and they play as do all children, they talk child talk as do all children, but they are different, they are blessed, they are special, they are sacred.

Who sees the other half of Self, sees Truth.

Old Magic, Old Ways, the Old Ones themselves often seem powerless in a new place.

She endured. And survived. Marginally, perhaps, but it is not required of us that we live well.

sometimes you just gotta trust that your secret's been kept long enough.

For a story to be told, it must be told properly, and to tell a story properly, it must be told with respect.