You seem to know a lot about it," she said. "And you do subtleties." "Yeah. Like I've always wanted to destroy the Nine Worlds while committing suicide." "Well, there's no need to be rude," protested Sif.

I'm not sure I believe in the whole 'ghost-afterlife' thing, but I think places are marked by people who have been there.

From a very young age my mother persuaded me that I could write for fun, but I had to have a proper job - very good advice.

I've never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow.

Our lives are like these things I make. Turn 'em, build 'em, bake 'em in fire. That's what you've been, son. Baked and fired. But a pot don't have the right to choose whether he be for water, wine, or just left empty. You have, son. You have.

I liked her better for showing a little spirit.

Some books you read. Some books you enjoy. But some books just swallow you up, heart and soul.