You’re a peach full of poison, you know that?" Mosca snapped back, but could not quite keep a hint of admiration from her tone.

I'm never telling the truth again! It gets you hanged and locked out and starved and froze and hated . . .

Where is your sense of patriotism?" I keep it hid away safe, along with my sense of trust, Mr. Clent. I don't use 'em much in case they get scratched.

My child, you have a flawed grasp of the nature of myth-making. I am a poet and storyteller, a creator of ballads and sagas. Pray do not confuse the exercise of the imagination with mere mendacity. I am a master of the mysteries of words, their meanings and music and mellifluous magic.

If you want someone to tell you what to think..." "You will never be short of people willing to do so.

Revenge is a dish best served unexpectedly and from a distance - like a thrown trifle.

Oh, painted smirk of a hopeless dawn, the girl is still wearing her breeches.