Then you will have to trust me. Beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond hope, trust me.

I would be mute, beautiful, changless as the earth for you. I would be your memory, without age, always innocent, always waiting in the King's white house. I would do that for you and no other man inthe relm. But it would be a lie and I will do anything but lie to you - I swear that.

All I wanted, even when I hated you most, was some poor, barren, parched excuse to love you. But you only gave me riddles.

Epics are never written about libraries. They exist on whim; it depends on if the conquering army likes to read.

Imagination is the golden-eyed monster that never sleeps. It must be fed; it cannot be ignored.

Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom; it moves to its own laws, and many living things dwell in it.

Then you will have to trust me. Beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond hope, trust me.