“His eyes were likewise greeted by White Fang, but about the latter there were no signs of shame nor guilt. He carried himself with pride, as though, forsooth, he had achieved a deed praiseworthy and meritorious. There was about him no consciousness of sin.”

“He talked to White Fang as White Fang had never been talked to before. He talked softly and soothingly, with a gentleness that somehow, somewhere, touched White Fang. In spite of himself and all the pricking warnings of his instinct, White Fang began to have confidence in this god. He had a feeling of security that was belied by all his experience with men.”

“He put his arms about himself as if he were cold. "I do not know who to be without him.”

“He had always prided himself on his ability to bargain, to bluff, to contain his ever-aching heart within the folds of his robes where no one could see his pain and his shame. Unconsciously, he reached up and fisted the little black pearl in his fingers, searching for words, praying to the Almighty for the words that would let him have her. But they would not come.They were not needed, when the truth was in his eyes.”

“Already he had achieved a tremendous success, as the great wings of an Elder had lifted him above the impossible, and were carrying him ever closer to the possible.”

“His cheeks were slick with tears that spilled over his diamond eyes, a ceaseless flow he neither noticed nor appeared to care about. And she had a feeling it was going to be a while before the leaking stopped-an inner artery had been nicked and this was the blood of his heart, spilling out of him, covering him.”