Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.

Her sister's shoes. They sparkeled even in the darkening afternoon. They sparkeled like yellow diamonds, and embers of blood and thorny stars.

Wisdom is not the understanding of mystery. Wisdom is accepting that mystery is beyond understanding. That's what makes it mystery.

Okay let's get this over with, no I'm not seasick, yes I've always been green, No I didn't eat grass as a child.

Elena had always felt like the center of her own world - who doesn't? The world arranged itself around her like petals around the stem of a flower. This way the meadows, that way the woodland. Over here, the baryn's estate, out there, the hills that hug the known world close and imply a world at beyond. She could never come up with the edge of a world, because it always kept going on beyond. She moved the center of the world as she walked. The world was balanced on her head.

That's what misbehavior is all about, just a little extra loving being asked for.

Children are wickeder than adults, they have no sense of restraint.