In this world, where we find ourselves, we need compassion more than anything, I think, or we are all alone.

Weariness, sometimes more than anything else, can bring an end to war.

She had been a solitary child, and then solitary as a woman, drawn into an orbit of her own that took her away from others, even those who would be her friends.

Men made wagers with their judgment, their allegiances, their resources.

The deeds of men, as footprints in the desert. Nothing under the circling moons is fated to last. Even the sun goes down.

Some writers later, describing the events of that night and day, wrote that Wan'yen of the Altai had seen a spirit-dragon of the river and become afraid. Writers do that sort of thing. They like dragons in their tales.

I have always argued, in a good novel, interesting things happen to interesting people.