“Stubborn, snarly male.”

“Sylvia had given him a scalding lecture, the gist of it being that whatever a woman enjoyed wearing was feminine and anything she didn't enjoy wearing wasn't, and if he was too stubborn and old fashioned to understand that, he could go and soak his head in a bucket of cold water. He hadn't quite forgiven her yet for saying they would have to look hard to find a bucket big enough to fit his head in to, but he admired the sass behind the remark.”

“Once, he’d been the Seducer, the Executioner, the High Priest of the Hourglass, the Prince of the Darkness, the High Lord of Hell.Once, he’d been Consort to Cassandra, the great Black-Jeweled, Black Widow Queen, the last Witch to walk the Realms.Once, he’d been the only Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince in the history of the Blood, feared for his temper and the power he wielded.Once, he’d been the only male who was a Black Widow.Once, he’d ruled the Dhemlan Territory in the Realm of Terreille and her sister Territory in Kaeleer, the Shadow Realm. He’d been the only male ever to rule without answering to a Queen and, except for Witch, the only member of the Blood to rule Territories in two Realms.Once, he’d been married to Hekatah, an aristo Black Widow Priestess from one of Hayll’s Hundred Families.Once, he’d raised two sons, Mephis and Peyton. He’d played games with them, told them stories, read to them, healed their skinned knees and broken hearts, taught them Craft and Blood Law, showered them with his love of the land as well as music, art, and literature, encouraged them to look with eager eyes upon all that the Realms had to offer—not to conquer but to learn. He’d taught them to dance for a social occasion and to dance for the glory of Witch. He’d taught them how to be Blood.But that was a long, long time ago.”

“We know how it ends practically before it starts. That's why stories appeal to us. They give us the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack.”

“Thera started sputtering. "You fool. You idiot." She stopped because Blaethe's response was much pithier and far more creative. She nodded approvingly. "What he said.”

“ - As wiccanfae não merecem estar entre nós...e Tir Alainn não é o lugar delas. - Nesse caso, sugiro que se vá embora.Lucian fixara-a com o olhar até Selena começar a perder mão sobre si mesma, em vias de se descontrolar. - Eu sou Fae - afirmara - e sou Filha da Casa de Gaian, o que implica que também sou wiccanfae. No entanto, se eu sou wiccanfae,o que julga o Senhor do Fogo que é? - Como?! - O fogo é um dos elementos da Mãe Universal. Não é uma dádiva dos Fae. O único motivo pelo qual o senhor o domina é por ser descendente de pelos menos uma pessoa que pertencia à Casa de Gaian. - Mentira - brandira Lucian - Eu sou Fae. - Wiccanfae! - atirara Selena, no mesmo tom. - Quem tem o seu poder não pode ter sangue puro. Quem julgava o senhor que era?...”

“A woman with an education may be able to spend more time sitting in a chair instead of lying on her back. A sound advantage, I should think.”