She felt as she often did in class when she was nearly sure she had the right answer, but could not always make herself raise her hand.

This is what comes of having a heart, even a very small and young one. It causes no end of trouble, and that’s the truth.

Someone ought to write a novel about me.

He missed you like a fish in a bowl misses the open sea.

That's how you get deathless, volchitsa. Walk the same tale over and over, until you wear a groove in the world, until even if you vanished, the tale would keep turning, keep playing, like a phonograph, and you'd have to get up again, even with a bullet through your eye, to play your part and say your lines.

You and I, being grown-up and having lost our hearts at least twice or thrice along the way, might shut our eyes and cry out: Not that way, child! But as we have said, September was Somewhat Heartless, and felt herself reasonably safe on that road. Children always do.

War is not for winning, Masha," sighed Koschei, reading the tracks of supply lines, of pincer strategies, over her shoulder. "It is for surviving.