“Zakath stared at the floor. 'I suddenly feel very helpless,' he admitted, 'and I don't like the feeling. I've been rather effectively dethroned, you know. This morning I was the Emperor of the largest nation on earth; this afternoon, I'm going to be a vagabond.'You might find it refreshing,' Silk told him lightly.Shut up, Kheldar,' Zakath said almost absently. He looked back at Polgara. 'You know something rather peculiar?'What's that?'Even if I hadn't given my word, I'd still have to go to Kell. It's almost like a compulsion. I feel as if I'm being driven, and my driver is a blindfolded girl who's hardly more than a child.'There are rewards,' she told him.Such as what?'Who knows? Happiness, perhaps.'He laughed ironically. 'Happiness has never been a driving ambition of mine, Lady Polgara, not for a long time now.'You may have to accept it anyway,' She smiled. 'We aren't allowed to choose our rewards any more than we are our tasks. Those decisions are made for us.”

“Young lady," Silk said urbanely, "I think you'd be amazed at how little Polgara's concerned about who you are." "Polgara?" Ce'Nedra faltered. "The Polgara? I thought you said that she was your sister." "I lied," Silk confessed. "It's a vice a have.”

“Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”“Haven,” she said quietly, peeking at him.He gazed at her peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” She stared at him, and hecracked a smile. “I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”“Haven, not Heaven,” she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. “My name’s Haven.”

“Maybe I could love you someday."If you ever do," he said, "come and let me know. You know where to find me."Her teeth were chattering harder. "I can't lose you, Simon. I can't."You never will. I'm not leaving you. But I'd rather have what we have, which is real and true and important, than have you pretend anything else. When I'm with you, I want to know I'm with the real you, the real Clary."She leaned her head against his, closing her eyes. He still felt like Simon, despite everything; still smelled like him, like his laundry soap. "Maybe I don't know who that is."But I do.”

“You know," he said, "now that I've got used to the idea, I think I'd rather have it this way. We've all got to die one day, some sooner and some later. The trouble always has been that you're never ready, because you don't know when it's coming. Well, now we do know, and there's nothing to be done about it. I kind of like that. I kind of like the thought that I'll be fit and well up till the end of August and then - home. I'd rather have it that way than go on as a sick man from when I'm seventy to when I'm ninety.”

“Whenever I'm with you it's as though someone has reached inside my chest, until the pain is almost more than I can bear. And when I'm not with you, I'd give anything to feel that way again." He heaved a deep sigh and continued. "But I...I couldn't go another day as I was.""And who are you now?" she asked."A man hopelessly in love with you.”