It was a very hard thing to have crushed the heart, and the hopes, of a friend.

You're in fine temper," Raffin said. "Your hair is blue," she snapped back.

Please, Katsa," he finally said. "At least talk to me". She swung around to face him. "What it there to talk about? You know how I feel, and what I think about it." "And what I feel? Doesn't it matter?

As she left the room, Po went to Katsa, pulled her up, sat himself in her chair, and drew her into his lap. Shushing her, he rocked her, the two of them holding on to each other as if it were the only thing keeping the world from bursting apart.

Mercy was more frightening than murder, because it was harder, and Randa didn't deserve it. And even though she wanted what the voice wanted, she didn't think she had the courage for it.

My life is an apology for the life of my father.

There are no medicines to bring a dead thing back to life.