If you were a woman, all I'd have to say is 'Colin Firth in a wet shirt' and you'd say 'Ah.

Smell is the voice of the soul.

What she had long believed was not true, and now the world was wide open to discover what was. It is like all my life I thought the sky was green.

Get back in my cot, girl," said Gilsa. "You're sickly." No, I'm not," said Ani. Oh, no? Well, maybe stubbornness is a sickness, did you ever think of that?

I do like the world quite a lot.

Time is a wind that keeps blowing in my face and mumbling words that don't make sense.

This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?