You do not respond to an attempt on your life with a slap on the hand. Or a joke.

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 look like a boy who has eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge and doesn't like the taste.

His aster-blue eyes shown out from a face blackened by bruises and soot, his fair hair glittering in the firelight. Dressed all in black, silhouetted against flame, he looked rather like a demon, raised from the dead, trading for souls on the other side.

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

Do not forget duty. But choose love when you can.

Crow walked toward her, arms outstretched like a man in a dream, which he was, in a way. Sometimes a dream is enough.