Sandry: "There has to be something we can do." Lark: "We're mages. We do what we can, but some problems are too big to fix." Sandry: "Then I wish I weren't a mage. What good is magic, if you can't use it to help people.

Curse him for being all tight muscle, with ivory skin and a mouth as soft as rose petals. Curse him for having hair as fair as the sun, and eyes as black as night. Curse him for having the grace of a cat and deft, cool hands. And now I am having the same argument on paper that I have in my own head on too many nights. I know my choice is sensible, but it isn't my common sense I think with, those times Rosto's stolen a kiss from me.

Stefan spat. "Oh, aye, he fell. O' course, Master Ralon helped him fall, several times. Poor li'l tyke didn't have a chance.

I wish we had a sign that this flaming dragon is part of an attack or something. Those dung heaps might think it’s just one of their own monsters enjoying the sunrise.

But, Sergeant Osbern, Sir, I like my head.

Mithros's spear, Kel!" he exclaimed. "When did you turn into a real girl?" "You said she was a girl already," muttered one of his cousins... "But not a girl-girl, with a chest and all!" protested Owen. ..."I've been a girl for a while, Owen," Kel informed him. "I never realized," her too outspoken friend replied. "It's not like you've got melons or anything, they're just noticeable.

[P]ride is something only folk with money can afford.