Bacon improved things dramatically.

At least her last words to him had been words of love. But she wished she'd told him just how much she loved him. How much she had to thank him for, how many good things he had done. She hadn't told him nearly enough.

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

What she really loved was to hang over the edge and watch the bow of the ship slice through the waves. She loved it especially when the waves were high and the ship rose and fell, or when it was snowing and the flakes stung her face.

Not all people who inspire devotion are monsters.

When a monster stopped behaving like a monster, did it stop being a monster? Did it become something else?

That's interesting," Bitterblue said. "You think a conscience requires fear?