I know you love me, but I don't know why. I look at you and I just can't get why it's me. Every time I get my balance, I lose it again. Because it shouldn't be me, and I think it'd kill me if you ever figured that out.

What if there's a fire?" Glenna said sweetly, and Cian merely smiled. "Then I guess you'd better open a window, and fly.

Life has very little even ground.

Better, Cilla thought, to be alone on a quiet night than to be alone in a crowd. Much better.

If people let other people alone, people would be better off. It's always people that screw things up for people anyway.

Good fiction creates its own reality.

The wounded recognized the wounded.