His name was Death. It was pronounced to rhyme with "teeth", but Bitterblue liked to mispronounce it by accident on occassion.

I'd like to restrain from cruelity and not be thanked." ~ Katsa

How unjust then to meet that person you love, and be kept away from them only because ones bed is made of hay , and the other, feathers.

As he left to answer the call, she heard him exclaiming in wonderment on the rise. "Rocks, Nash. Is that a river mare out there? Do you see her? Have you ever laid eyes on a more gorgeous creature?

What man can hate or love well when he is drugged?

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

...you could not measure love on a scale of degrees, and now she understood that it was the same with pain. Pain might escalate upward and, just when you thought you'd reach your limit, begin to spread sideways, and spill out, and touch other people, and mix with their pain. And grow larger, but somehow less oppressive. She had thought herself trapped in a place outside the ordinary feeling lives of people; she had not noticed how many other people were trapped in that place with her.