Humanity, perhaps, that quality of benevolence that humans have, without irony, named after themselves.

They were tower stairs, a tight corkscrew down. The spiraling descent made Karou dizzy: down, around, down, around, hypnotic, until it seemed as if she were caught in a purgatory of stairs and would go down like this forever.

...the air seeming to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place were a story about her.

Icon of Prague, the medieval bridge crossed the Vltava between Old Town and the Little Quarter. Gothic bridge towers rose on both sides, and the whole span — pedestrian-only — was lined by monumental statues of saints.

He actually listened, rather than pretending to listen while waiting a suitable interval before it was his time to talk again.

If only it were that easy to let go of hate. Just relax your face.

Dialogue is the place that books are most alive and forge the most direct connection with readers. It is also where we as writers discover our characters and allow them to become real.