Women are impossible, witches are worse, and women who are powerful witches are going to be the death of me.

I'd once read somewhere that is takes about half as long to recover from a deep relationship as the relationship lasted.

Robbie turned to the house again. "Got a flashlight?" "Of course not." I smirked. "That would make me too well prepared, wouldn't it?

You're not honey. Your'e wine. You're the deepest, darkest shadow under a tree on a blazing day. You're strong and hard, coursing like a current at the bottom of a river.

Being good is something that one must choose over and over again, every day, throughout the day, for the rest of one’s life.

What would it be like to care so little about what other people thought of you?

You went to all that trouble just for my body?" I said, amazed and so grateful. Reyn looked up, irritation on his face. "Yeah. We were going to have you stuffed, as an example to future students." I grinned, "You could put me on wheels, move me from room to room.