And, like a fool, she kissed him back. Kissed him a way that would leave no doubt about the way she felt about him. Kissed him because she knew the chances were slim she'd have very many kisses like that in her lifetime. Which is a sad thing when you're only seventeen.

And they always slept better with blades beneath their beds.

I like rough edges. That's what makes a person real.

I have to think it's possible to suffer a great wrong and walk away from it. To build a life of small, exquisitely important moments.

The next chamber is full of songbirds, if I remember right. Their music is like turtleweed. It will put you to sleep if you listen to it. They sleep most of the time, so the best thing is to pass through without waking them up. If they do awaken, then you must sing loud enough to drown out their music." "Great," Han said. "Whose idea was that?" "It seemed like a good idea at the time," Crow said. "I was an excellent singer.

You couldn’t keep your mouth shut? I’m calling you Glitterhair from now on. Or Talksalot.

Nobody's going to hand you anything. You don't get what you don't go after.