You know, I could have carried you.

Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woefully small targets.

Isn't that the way of the world? We want the sweet things, but we need the unpleasant ones.

The air was heavy with the smell of leather and dust, of old parchment and binding glue. It smelled of secrets.

Secrets of the heart. We swallow hard against them every day, forcing them deep inside us. There they sit, growing heavier, festering. Given enough time, they cannot help but crush the heart that holds them.

When you read a fantasy novel part of the fun is getting to explore a new world. Everyone knows that. But I believe the same is true about characters. You can explore interesting people in the same way that you explore a town or a culture.

Sought we the Scrivani word-work of Surthur Long-long in ledger all hope forgotten Yet fast-found for friendship fair the book-bringer Hot comes the huntress Fela, flushed with finding Breathless her breast her high blood rising To ripen the red-cheek rouge-bloom of beauty.