“Looking for an entirely reliable informant is like looking for a chaste mistress.”
“Just once, he looks back at Arsay, and I feel like an entire encyclopedia of information and words is exchanged between them. I wish I could speak telepathy too.”
“Look upon me, Mistress. Watch as I wither!”
“Well, all information looks like noise until you break the code.”
“I wished I had been able to make her look that way, but it is the destiny of a lover to watch unhappiness hardening like a cast around his mistress.”
“What a beautiful and chaste-looking mouth! from floor to ceiling, lines, or rather papered with a glistening white membrane, glossy as bridal satins.”