“But her heart was so cold that she could hold ice in her mouth and it would never melt.”

“I would have to break the ice with a warm smile that would melt her heart.”

“He pushed a hand inside the blankets to feel her cheek, her shoulder. Trickles of water ran across her face as her hair melted. He was cold, but she was ice. She needed every scrap of warmth he could find for her...His sense of touch, enhanced by the Void and saidin, soaked in the feel of her. Her skin made silt feel rough.”

“Iced champagne was poured out. Emma shivered all over as she felt it cold in her mouth. She had never seen pomegranates nor tasted pine-apples. The powdered sugar even seemed to her whiter and finer than elsewhere.”

“And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind of world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go.”

“My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To FireMy love is like to ice, and I to fire;How comes it then that this her cold so greatIs not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,But harder grows the more I her entreat?Or how comes it that my exceeding heatIs not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold;But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,And feel my flames augmented manifold!What more miraculous thing may be told,That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice;And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,Should kindle fire by wonderful device!Such is the power of love in gentle mind,That it can alter all the course of kind.”