Whatever capacity she possesses to supernaturally beguile a human soul—and she possesses many—she liked his clear-sightedness too well, to blind him that way.

…there’s nothing in the world more fun than doing something you’re good at.

Everything is in flux: everything changes; the body changes, the soul changes. We are capable of extraordinary self-transmutat ion and internal self-transforma tion.

Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.

I firmly believe that a story is only as good as the villain.

Even winter — the hardest season, the most implacable — dreams, as February creeps on, of the flame that will presently melt it away. Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself.

Life is short And pleasures few And holed the ship And drowned the crew But o! But o! How very blue the sea is.