Extending his senses, Lorkin tried again to hear his mother’s surface thoughts. What he picked up seemed too out of character, however. He must be imagining it. Though…it was also odd that he would imagine his mother thinking such a string of curse words.

Happy endings are a luxury of fiction

It is said, in Imardin, that the wind has a soul, and that it wails through the narrow streets because it is grieved by what it finds there.

Mortals did not need gods to order them to kill eachother. They were quite capable of finding reasons to do so themselves.

Inspiration comes from so many sources. Music, other fiction, the non-fiction I read, TV shows, films, news reports, people I know, stories I hear, misheard words or lyrics, dreams

So what were you [Sonea] and Dorrien discussing before?' Akkarin asked. She turned to regard him. 'Discussing?' 'Outside the farmhouse when I was buying the food.' 'Oh. Then. Nothing.' He smiled and nodded. 'Nothing. Amazing subject, that one. Produces such fascinating reactions in people.

Better to know the quick pain of truth than the ongoing pain of a long-held false hope.