You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.

Is there a connection between language and magic? Yes. Ten times yes. So much yes that it almost doesn't bear talking about. It's as pointless that arguing that the sun is hot.

I smiled,"Deoch, my heart is made of stronger stuff than glass. When she strikes she'll find it strong as iron-bound brass, or gold and adamant together mixed. Don't think I am unaware, some startled deer to stand transfixed by hunter's horns. It's she who should take care, for when she strikes, my heart will make a sound so beautiful and bright that it can't help but bring her back to me in winged light.

Owls are wise. They are careful and patient. Wisdom precludes boldness. That is why owls make poor heroes.

Are you hurt?" "Absolutely," I said. "Especially in my everywhere.

Good lord woman. If i had tits like yours I'd own half the world by now.

How odd to watch a mortal kindle / Then to dwindle day by day / Knowing their bright souls are tinder / And the wind will have its way