He made her drunk, this man made her drunk; and every time his eyes flashed into hers she could not breathe.

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

Why are you still here?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be in a cave somewhere inspiring people?

You won't even take your bow? Are you planning to throttle a moose with your bare hands, then?

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.

They seemed no closer to the tops of the peaks that rose before them. It was only by looking back, to the forest far below, that she knew they'd climbed.

I wanted you to go away, because it hurts to be with you when I can't see you." - Po