The stars shone down on her like flowers made of light, and their beauty hurt her weary heart.
The Fairy looked at the broken glass around her feet. Her shattered cage. And the one who’d put her in it was far, far away. But, no, she had caged herself.
Nothing was more cruel than a heart made of flesh and blood, because it knew what gives pain.
No. Nothing could make it easier. You lost what you loved. That was death, here as well as there.
Mortimer!” Orpheus produced a derisive smile, although with some difficulty. “Is your head buried so deep in your wine jug that you don’t know what’s going on in this world of yours? He’s not doing any reading now. The bookbinder prefers to play the outlaw these days – the role you created especially for him.
It was far easier to believe in unhappiness than in happiness.
Words are immortal -until someone comes along and burns them.
Meggie looked up at the dense thicket of branches. She had never set eyes on a tree like it before. The bark was reddish brown, but as rough as the bark of an oak, and the trunk did not branch until high up in the tree, although it had so many bulges that you could find footholds and handholds everywhere. In some places huge tree fungi formed platforms. Hollows gaped in the towering trunk, and crevices full of feathers showed that human beings were not the only creatures to have nested in this tree.
It hadn’t been easy to reach the city where Jacob had grown up. The borders in his world were more tightly guarded than the island of the Fairies.
The rain pummeled the old Dragon bones as though to provide the rhythm to the song of their mortality, but death was not what they had on their minds-or wasn’t love sometimes called the small death?