I am not sure I am ready to know what I think about that, so I dare not write it out.

There you go...let it all slide out. Unhappiness can't stick in a person's soul when it's slick with tears.

Many times I have learned that, you never judge a book by its cover. Like people, it is the inside that counts.

Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep.

There was a burst of laughter so sudden Miri jumped to her feet in alarm. Bena and Liana had pushed Peder out of the bed and onto the floor. He in turn leaped on Liana's bed, clinging to it and laughing as the girls tugged at his ankles. "So, are you two betrothed?" Katar asked. "No," Miri said shortly "Ohh." Karter smirked, one eyebrow raised, and she looked altogether more like her old self. "It appears I stumbled upon a topic of conversation even more dangerous than revolution.

Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding.

I'm the sheen on water, Rin thought. I'm a looking glass. I'm not real.