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.

Perhaps all a Tsaritsa is is a beautiful cold girl in the snow, looking down at someone wretched, and not yielding.

I believe we have an utterly unique specimen on our hands: a child who listens.

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

We all just keep moving, September. We keep moving until we stop.

I’m a monster,” said the shadow of the Marquess suddenly. “Everyone says so.” The Minotaur glanced up at her. “So are we all, dear,” said the Minotaur kindly. “The thing to decide is what kind of monster to be. The kind who builds towns or the kind who breaks them.

Respect me. Be proud, and if you love me, a little afraid, because love so often looks like fear. We are alike. We are alike.