“When daylight is here i dream of the night,The stars of a country sky that shine so bright.A night sky without clouds, for the moon to hide under,Revealing every twinkle and every beam, of the Milky Way's wonder.I grow sad in the morning, And i pay the day no mind.Every time i see the light coming, I know the sunset's not far behind.”

“once i was told to not be sad, because behind every dark cloud there is a bright sky...what they do not seem to know is that past that bright sky is an endless darkness.”

“Ah," Gary said dreamily. " 'Free time.' I've heard about that. Don't fool yourself, Fire-Top. What with extra hours of lessons for punishments, and the extra work you get every day, free time is an illusion. It's what you get when you die and the gods reward you for a life spent working from dawn until midnight. We all face up to it sooner or later--the only real free time you get here is what my honored sire chooses to give you, when he thinks you have earned it." "And he doesn't give it to you at night," Alex put in. "He gives it to you when you've been here awhile, on Market Day and sometimes a morning or afternoon all to yourself. But never at night. At night you study. During the day you study. In your sleep--”

“I can't really remember the days. The light of the sun blurred and annihilated all color. But the nights, I remember them. The blue was more distant than the sky, beyond all depths, covering the bounds of the world. The sky, for me, was the stretch of pure brilliance crossing the blue, that cold coalescence beyond all color. Sometimes, it was in Vinh Long, when my mother was sad she'd order the gig and we'd drive out into the country to see the nighta s it was in the dry season. I had that good fortune- those nights, that mother. The light fell from the sky in cataracts of pure transparency, in torrents of silence and immobility. The air was blue, you could hold it in your hand. Blue. The sky was the continual throbbing of the brilliance of the light. The night lit up everything, all the country on either bank of the river as far as the eye could reach. Every night was different, each one had a name as long as it lasted. Their sound was that of the dogs, the country dogs baying at mystery. They answered on another from village to village, until the time and space of the night were utterly consumed.”

“Aeriel felt her heart grow troubled. "I know," she said. "I know that he is evil, but his beauty unmakes me. Every time he looks at me, I die.”

“Hello," he greeted her cheerfully. "You must be Alan of Trebond. You're very hardy to have made it this far the first day. Has anyone said what we try to learn in here?" Alanna said the first thing that came to her lips. "The only thing I know is that I jump when I'm told to and I have no free time.”

“Where are the stars on this dark, dark, night?Where is there tiny twinkling light?Where is the music?Where is the song?Where are the colors?Something is wrong.Sometimes stars hide in the clouds,and their light seems far away.Sometimes voices are hushed and still,and the rainbow fades to gray.Sometimes the world is topsy-turvy,and nobody really knows why;Sometimes sad things happen,and even grown-ups cry.But always, my child, always,you are safe here in my arms.The world may be topsy-turvy,but I will shelter you from harm.Always the stars are twinkling,even when clouds hide their light.I promise you voices will sing again,and colors will again shine bright.I promise there is always tomorrowfor starlight and rainbows and song;My love will always surround youunchanged, unbroken, and strong.”