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.

I still can't understand how Cecil and my old tutor, Fitz, got along so well, when we often called Fitz 'the Genius' and avoided calling Cecil anything at all, so as not to be rude.

Life and stories are alike in one way: They are full of hollows. The king and queen have no children: They have a child hollow. The girl has a wicked stepmother: She has a mother hollow. In a story, a baby comes along to fill the child hollow. But in life, the hollows continue empty.

You could at least complain,” I say. “I adore complaining. It calms the nerves.

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

I hated myself, but I also loved myself in a hateful way.

I don't mean to be ungrateful but if someone's out there answering prayers, mine's not at the top of the list