It was a strange monster, for beneath its exterior it was frightened and sickened by its own violence. It chastised itself for its savagery. And sometimes it had no heart for violence and rebelled against it utterly.

If I wanted to stun anyone at dinner, I'd hit them in the face.

She couldn't steal herself back from Randa only to give herself away again - belong to another person, be answerable to another person, build her very being around another person.

You do trust him, though, Giddon?" "Holt, who is stealing your sculptures and is of questionable mental health?" "Yes." "I trusted him five minutes ago. Now I'm at a bit of a loss." "Your opinion five minutes ago is good enough for me.

Have you ridden over anyone you shouldn't?

I’m bored to death. Perhaps I should pillage one of my neighbors for my own amusement. It seems to work for Drowden.

His last thought was that it hadn't been stupidity that had allowed his son to enchant him so easily with words. It had been love.