Her clothes still smoked from the wizard’s assault. But to him, she always smelled of flowers.

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

She had never felt more alive than when she lay dying in Han Alister's arms.

She padded toward Han, barefoot, like a faerie startled out of a forest bower, bewitching mix of clan and flatland beauty.

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.

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

The time will come when you will be forced to make a choice,” Hanalea said. “When that time comes, choose love.