Night breeds its own sort of anticipation.

Sidonie, I know you don't remember it, but you once promised to trust me beyond all reason. And I swear to you that all that I am, all that I possess, including this gem-stone, is yours. I need you. I can't do this alone. Forget your memories. Look into your heart. And if you can find somewhere there, some lingering spark of trust that owes naught to reason, I beg you to speak the word written here.

Clearly, Im drawn to characters with inner conflicts.

If I had to fall from Cassiel's grace, at least I know it took a courtesan worthy of Kings to do it.

Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight.

Only insofar as you enjoy being sorry, my dear, which, while it is a considerable amount, occurs only after the fact, thus making it a singularly ineffective deterrent, yes?

What is fear but courage's shadow?