You always have a choice. Don't ever imagine you don't. Whatever you do, it's a decision and you have to accept responsibility for it. That's when honor becomes more than empty words.

It was Alec who brought their lips together. Seregil's first reaction was disbelief. But Alec was insistent, clumsy but determined. It lasted an instant, an eternity, that one awkward kiss, and it spoke silent volumes of bewildered honesty. The moment that followed was too fragile for words.

You hardly know me. Why do you want me to come with you?’ ‘Who knows? Perhaps you remind me just a bit of -‘ ‘Someone you used to know?’ Alec interjected skeptically. ‘Someone I used to be.

A crafty nightrunner died of late, And found himself at Bilairy’s Gate. He stood outside and refused to knock Because he meant to pick the lock.

I don't want to spend a fortune on my cremation urn, but I really do want to look nice at my memorial service.

Take what the Lightbearer sends and be thankful.

I do a lot with characters' sense of identity. I also like challenging stereotypes, gender roles, things like that. Give me a stereotype or a genre expectation and the first thing I want to do is stand it on its head. In the Nightrunner books I wanted to see if I could create a believable gay hero, one who wasn't someone's sidekick or a victim.