You mind your tongue!” “Oh, I do,” I said. “I sharpen it every evening on your name.

I don't know what it is, but I ache for it each day. It's as though I have eyes, but there are colors I cannot see. As though I have ears, but there's a range of notes I cannot hear.

That’s where proper stories begin, don’t they, when the handsome stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?

People think me a sort of Florence Nightingale, but I have no heroic qualities. I simply don’t feel very much.

I have some questions about betrayal,” I said. “Think about this: A person who calls you his best friend, and says he has dinner plans with you, goes off with a beautiful woman, saying he’ll be back directly, then makes you wait half an hour because he’s kissing the woman in the alley. Is that betrayal?” “Oh, Lord.” Eldric tossed back his wine.

It's the picnic principle. Things taste better outdoors. And if it's a forbidden thing, so much the better.

Imagine a world without shadows. You cannot touch a shadow, but a world without them is a hard world, and flat.