Immortality gets very, very boring. You'd be surprised at how interesting the small mundanities of life can seem after a few millennia.

This means, in a way, that true light is dependent on the presence of other lights. Take the others away and darkness results. Yet the reverse is not true: take away darkness and there is only more darkness. Darkness can exist by itself. Light cannot.

It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all - but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

Any woman can face the world alone, but why should we have to?

And in that sliver of time, I felt the power around me coalesce, malice-hard and sharp as crystal. That this analogy occurred to me should have been a warning.

There is no greater warrior than a mother protecting her child.

Rising from the dead? Glowing at sunrise? What did that make him, the god of cheerful mornings and macabre surprises?