All exiles carry a map within them that points the way homeward.

There are those who are awkward in the face of sorrow, fearing to say the wrong thing; to them, I say, there is no wrong in comfort, ever. A kind word, a consoling arm ... these things are ever welcome.

I know what you are. I've always known from the beginning, Kushiel's Chosen. It is folly, to make claim on one whom the gods have marked for their own. And unlike the others, I am no fool, to grasp at that which burns to the touch. What you have given..." she raised one hand, palm upward, the garnet seal dangling at her wrist, "... I hold in an open hand.

To have a traitor for an ally is to have an enemy in waiting

And for a price, I will pretend absolutely nothing.

The tapestry of history is woven of many threads.

All paths are present, always... and we can but choose among them.