...something was starting to take shape, out of magic and will. Smoke and bone.

Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)

She stabbed him in the armpit, deep, and he dropped his sword. And died. So that's what is feels like, she thought as her boldness gave away to trembling. It feels awful.

We dreamed together of the world remade.

Infinities are not for casual exploration. You could fall and keep falling. You could get lost.

It was funny, she thought, but her smile turned wistful because she had nobody to tell.

When you are young, hone your craft and write shorter pieces instead of novels, because it's really hard to finish a novel.