Perhaps I can stay by the fire and mend your socks and scream if I hear any strange noises.

Sit, Your High Majestic Lord Princes," she said. She yanked a chair from the table and sat herself down. "You're in fine temper," Raffin said. "Your hair is blue," Katsa snapped back.

It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire's fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye.

What are you grinning at?" Katsa demanded for the third or fourth time. "Is the ceiling about to cave in on my head or something? You look like we're both on the verge of an enormous joke." "Katsa, only you would consider the collapse of the ceiling a good joke.

If we're to be judged by our parents and grandparents, then we all may as well impale ourselves upon jagged bits of rock.

It's hard to wake from a nightmare when the nightmare is real.

The only way for you to keep your mind straight is to run from those who would confuse you.