Night after night the nightingale came to beg for divine love, but though the rose trembled at the sound of his voice, her petals remained closed to him...Flower and bird, two species never meant to mate. Yet at length the rose overcame her fear and from that single, forbidden union was born the red rose that Allah never intended the world to know.

Death was the ultimate power and I his eager, willing apprentice.

Killing is like riding, you see. One never really loses the knack.

I can make anything disappear, if I really want to.

In point of fact I was a perfectly devoted and dutiful little Catholic—until the day I learned that animals have no souls.

I had reached up and pulled the castle of dreams down around him.

All beauty must have its imperfections, all happiness its share of sorrow.