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.

Your horse is named Small. Yes. Mine is named Big. -Fire and Brigan

A consciousness was like a face you saw once and forever recognized.

That was what they did with themselves, those two Gracelings, along with a small band of friends: They stirred up trouble on a serious scale—bribery, coercion, sabotage, organized rebellion—all directed at stopping the worst behavior of the world’s most seriously corrupt kings.

Then she marched to the pillows and beat them mercilessly until they lay puffed out like obedient clouds.

Still doing your best to ruin the horses, I see.

I've been afraid of being Cansrel,' she said aloud to her reflection. 'But I'm not Cansrel.' At her elbow, Musa said blandly, 'Any one of us could have told you that, Lady.' Fire looked at the captain of her guard and laughed, because she wasn't Cansrel- she wasn't anyone but herself. She had no one's path to follow; her path was her own to choose.