I don't write from dreams because I don't remember mine, but I had a fragment of an image left about twins, whose father was telling them how their lives were going to go for the next eight years. I wrote a scene about that, and then another and then another and then another, and after five months I had 732 pages.

I will be known forever as the Puppy who chased a cutpurse and caught fish garbage instead. My descendants will pretend I'm not in their bloodline. No – no one will want to make descendants with me. [from Beka Cooper's journal of her first day as a new Dog i.e. cop]

Someday I must read this scholar Everyone. He seems to have written so much--all of it wrong.

If her rump were any stiffer, she'd break it every time she rides', I thought to Pounce. 'If she fell on the steps, they would never be able to put her together again', he replied.

Thus went my first Court Day. I think i'm going to puke.

She would have kissed him, if she kissed stupid men.

She rides as a man, goes unveiled as a man, fights as a man. Let her prove herself worthy as a man, worthy of her weapons and of our friendship.