Hooves clomping over the whitewashed planks, Doren sprinted along the boardwalk after Rondus, a portly satyr with butterscotch fur and horns that curved away from each other. Puffing hard, Rondus cut through a gazebo and started down the stairs to the field. Only a few steps behind, Doren went airborne and slammed into the heavyset satyr. Together they pitched violently forward into the grass, staining their skin green.

Oh, Kendra, before I forget, Gavin asked me to give you this letter." He held out a gray, speckled envelope. "Happy birthday to you!" Seth exclaimed, his voice full of implications. Kendra tried not to blush as she tucked the envelope away. "Dear Kendra," Seth improvised, "you're the only girl who really gets me, you know, and I think you're very mature for your age--" "What about some cake?" Grandma interrupted, holding the first piece out to Kendra and glaring at Seth.

The curse of mortality. You spend the first portion of your life learning, growing stronger, more capable. And then, through no fault of your own, your body begins to fail. You regress. Strong limbs become feeble, keen senses grow dull, hardy constitutions deteriorate. Beauty withers. Organs quit. You remember yourself in your prime, and wonder where that person went. As your wisdom and experience are peaking, your traitorous body becomes a prison.

Faith isn't knowledge, Rachel. Faith is a tool. Faith keeps us going until we get the knowledge. Faith keeps us striving until we reach the consequences of our most important decisions.

What has three heads, six arms, and half a brain?" Three asked. One and Two answered in unison. "Nate Sutter.

If we might be able to save this world, how can we walk away? Too many people around here have given up! Galloran said heroes sacrifice for causes; they do things that others hide from. I may not be some great hero, but I won’t hide from this. I would never live with myself.

Excruciating agony makes me cranky.