It's not fair. It's not fair," she cried, knowing it was a child's argument but not caring, because being childish did not make it untrue.

I must stop wishing for things to happen. Because something will happen eventually, and when it does, I'll be bound to wish it hadn't.

She groped forward, hands and feet, in search of darkness, distance and solitude.

Bitterblue had never seen a man naked, and she was curious. She decided the universe owed her a few minutes, just a few, to satisfy her curiosity. So she went to him and knelt, which shut him up.

His name was Death. It was pronounced to rhyme with "teeth", but Bitterblue liked to mispronounce it by accident on occassion.

She would like to restrain from cruelty and receive no admiration for it.

I’m suspicious of the notion of a single book that would benefit everyone to read.