No one was ever good enough for anybody's precious sons. No one ever called daughters precious, and why was that? Things had not changed very much. In the end women like Emily and Ingrid and Freya and Joanna only had one another to lean on. The men were wonderful when they were around, but their fires burned too bright, they lived too close to the sun - look what happened to her boy, and to her man. Gone. Women only had one another in the end.

Instead of fearing the future, I should live and enjoy the present, she told herself.

Evil was seductive and easy, and virtue was difficult and unappreciated.

I'm up for it. Whatever it is. As long as it means I'll always be with you.

Had pretended to be Abbadon of the Dark, when always he had been working for the Light.

He knew what it was like to love one who did not--or could not--love you back. But he'd had no choice. None of them did.

A promise, a bond, a joy, a love for the ages, for the history books.…But what was love but pain?