Eternity ended ten years ago.

A thing of nature. For every Push, there is a Pull. A consequence.

Raoden turned to regard the large Dula. "What does it matter? It's not like we have anything pressing to do. It's actually quite pleasant up here—you should just sit back and enjoy it." An ominous crash came from the clouds above them, and Raoden felt a wet drop splat against his head. "Fantastic," Galladon grumbled. "I'm enjoying myself already.

All right," Spook said. He reached to the ground, scooping up a pile of ash. "Let's just rub this into your clothing and on your face...." Breeze froze. "I'll meet you back ath the lair," he finally said.

I am a writer who works from an outline. What I generally do when I build an outline is I find focal, important scenes, and I build them in my head and I don't write them yet, but I build towards them.

The sudden and abrupt removal of my all-consuming goal ... well, it was like I was a donut, and somebody had sucked all the jelly out of me. But I could stuff new jelly in there. It would just get my hands a little sticky in the process.

Bitterness is repaid more often than kindness.