In love – it sounded like a sickness without any cure, and wasn’t that just how it sometimes felt?
He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water — although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.
The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness – and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn’t ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.
You humans love mirrors. You have to constantly make sure you still have the same face. Nothing scares you more than if someone changes it.
Dustfinger closed his eyes and listened.
He was home again.
Orpheus. Had the name he had taken ever suited him better? But he would be wilier than the singer whose name he had stolen. He would indeed. He would send another man into the realm of Death in the Fire-Dancer’s place-and he’d make sure that he didn’t come back.
The Magpie took off her glove and looked scornfully at him. “Basta likes to use snakes to scare woman that reject his advances. It didn’t work with Resa. How did it go exactly – didn’t she finally put the snake outside your door, Basta?
How clear one’s own desires become once they are made impossible.
Faccio volentieri delle promesse, specialmente quelle che non posso mantenere.
She always did like tales of adventure-stories full of brightness and darkness. She could tell you the names of all King Arthur’s knights, and she knew everything about Beowulf and Grendel, the ancient gods and the not-quite-so-ancient heroes. She liked pirate stories, too, but most of all she loved books that had at least a knight or a dragon or a fairy in them. She was always on the dragon’s side by the way.