“You know a great many things in dreams, often despite the evidence of your eyes. You just know them.”

“Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.”

“What's the matter princess? Do you know the end of your story?”

“You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.”

“What’s so unusual about that, princess?” he asked quietly. “Do you know how your story ends?”

“I know you all think I'm a magician, but I'm not. The magic comes out of the booksthemselves, and I have no more idea than you or any of your men how it works.”

“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.”