He looked at her, and the clarity of his dark eyes struck her heart with a sensation of a wound touched.

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

You forgot to cough!” he said. “Sorry.” She coughed. “Your sneakiness is dangerous. Next time that chisel will lodge itself in my head.” “Now, Peder, there’s plenty of stone around here for carving. No need to practice on your own face.” He stroked his chin. “You’re right, my jaw is already chiseled to perfection.” She agreed, but she felt too silly to say so aloud.

Just like the old adage--what you dislike most in other people is what you dislike the most in yourself--

Razo was sorely tempted to assert that all was true and he'd lost his horns and tail in a tragic childhood accident

She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.

Ani told them all...telling more than needed telling, the stories clarifying and unifying themselves in her mind as she let them spill out of her mouth.