When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.

I'm perfectly happy to know the world at secondhand. It's a lot safer.

Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?

I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.

Every reader knows about the feeling that characters in books seem more real than real people.

We're all liars when it serves our purpose.

There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife.