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

Dear Brigan, she thought to herself. People want incongruous, impossible things. Horses do, too.

Ideas were growing in all directions and dimensions; they were becoming a sculpture, or a castle. And then everyone left her, to return to their own affairs; and she was alone, and empty and unbelieving again.

You're good at love," she said simply, because it seemed to her that it was true. "I'm not so good at love. I'm like a barbed creature. I push everyone I love away." He shrugged. "I don't mind you pushing me away if it means you love me, little sister.

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.

Katsa and Po were trying to drown each other and, judging from their hoots of laughter, enjoying it immensely.

Wonderful," Garan grumbled when he'd gone. "We'll grow a reputation for our kindness to lawbreakers.