That someone can want something out of another person who gives absolutely nothing in return astounds me.

It's too late. Seventeen-year-olds don't need fathers. Oh god. I'm thirty-four years old and I need a father. I can't even begin to think what my daughter needs.

I'm not interested in those who do me wrong. There's not enough time in the day for them.

Trevanion wrapped his arm around his son's neck like shepherd's hook and dragged him along playfully. when he let go, Finnikin thought he would have liked his father to hold on a moment longer.

Hold my hand because I might disappear.

And it was this image that was stamped on the hearts and minds of all who were present that day. Of Froi of the Exiles holding the future of Lumatere in his hands.

Simple dreams are the hardest to come true