Stone walls confine a tinker; cold iron binds a witch; but a musician's music can never be fettered, for it lives first in her heart and mind.

Tattoos...are the stories in your heart, written on your skin.

It's good to have mysteries. It reminds us that there's more to the world than just making do and having a bit of fun.

"... he had understood, better than anyone ... the beauty that grew out of the simple knowledge that everything, no matter how small or large it might be, was a perfect example of what it was."

There was too much going on here -- too much that strayed from odd all the way over into seriously weird.

She knew this music--knew it down to the very core of her being--but she had never heard it before. Unfamiliar, it had still always been there inside her, waiting to be woken. It grew from the core of mystery that gives a secret its special delight, religion its awe. It demanded to be accepted by simple faith, not dissected or questioned, and at the same time, it begged to be doubted and probed.

The fey wonders of the world only exist while there are those with the sight to see them.