“There was a nice dilemma. How does one interject into a polite conversation,"By the way, in case you're ever interested, I do have a penise."?”

“A few months ago you assassinated a man who called himself a god; now you're going after a goddess in truth. Unless you can figure out a way to kill continents, after this you're going to have to retire.”

“At some point, you have to decide not merely what you're going to believe, but how you're going to believe. Are you going to believe in people, or in ideas or in Orcholam? With your heart, or with your head? Will you believe what's in front of you, or in what you think you know? There are some things you think you know that are lies. I can't tell you what those are, and I'm sorry for that.”

“There is only one question: Does what you do, every day, have meaning? Acaelus had thought his actions did, once. For centuries, he’d put his faith in Jorsin Alkestes. A long dead king. A madman who’d sworn he would return. Even from death. A madman who’d left madness everywhere in his wake.”

“Why am I attracted to her butt? How weird is that? Why do men like butts anyway?”

“My question is, do you believe in an evil possessed of its own purity? or does every act intend some good?...”

“I don’t know how you’ve managed a tan,” Daydra said, “but you’ll have to keep it up, and talk like a pirate. If you want to work for Momma K, you’re going to be the Sethi pirate girl. You have a husband or a lover?” Kaldrosa hesitated. “Husband,” she admitted. “The last beating nearly killed him.” “If you do this, you’ll never get him back. A man can forgive a woman who leaves whoring for him, but he’ll never forgive one who goes whoring for him.” “It’s worth it,” Kaldrosa said. “To save his life, it’s worth it.”