She lifted her head. "It's easier," she said, slowly, "to be angry on someone else's behalf than on my own. And yet I find I have a well of anger in me, that I have been filling for years from my own hurts. If I spill it out in defense of another, I can deny it's mine.

She has her own glamour, Willy lad. All poets do, all the bards and artists, all the musicians who truly take the music into their own hearts. They all straddle the border of Faerie, and they see into both worlds. Not dependably into either, perhaps, but that uncertainty keeps them honest and at a distance.

Could I make you believe something that wasn't true?' He studied her through his eyelashes. 'You could make me believe anything at all.

We're all immortal until we die.

Is negative space the space you don't like, or the space that is not there? And if it's not there how can you tell?

Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and pulleys.

Sometimes, she reflected, she dressed for courage, sometimes for success, and sometimes for the consolation of knowing that whatever else went wrong, at least she liked her clothes.