“For no good reason, he thought of Xhex. Xhex was a thunderstorm made up of hues of black and iron gray, power leashed but no less lethal for its control. Cormia was a sunny day cast in rainbow of brightness. He put his hand over his heart and bowed to her, then left. As he started up for his room, he wondered whether he liked the storm or the sunshine better.”

“Kerrigan?" she choked, cupping his face in both of her hands. "Come back to me."Suddenly, he drew a deep breath before he opened his eyes to look up at her. Instead of their normal black hue, they were a bright, crystal blue—the same color they had been when he was human.”

“He wondered whether he really liked his mother. But she was his mother and this fact was recognized by everybody as meaning automatically that he loved her, and so he took for granted that whatever he felt for her was love. He did not know whether there was any reason why he should respect her judgment. She was his mother; this was supposed to take the place of reasons.”

“He explained to me that the reason he put his hand overmy heart,” he pressed his palm to his chest, “was to keep my soulsafe. A vampire is more powerful when he still possesses his giftfrom God.” He sucked in a painfully sharp breath. “I've never toldanyone that.”~Dorian”

“...he spent whole days and nights over his books; and thus with little sleeping and much reading his brains dried up to such a degree that he lost the use of his reason.”

“The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifleand a black dog running behind.Cobwebs snatched at his feet,rivers hindered him,thorn branches caught at his eyes to make him blindand the sky turned into an unlucky opal,but he didn't mind.I can break branches, I can swim rivers, I can stare out any spider I meet,said he to his dog and his rifle.The blacksmith's boy went over the paddockswith his old black hat on his head.Mountains jumped in his way,rocks rolled down on him,and the old crow cried, You'll soon be dead.And the rain came down like mattocks.But he only said,I can climb mountains, I can dodge rocks, I can shoot an old crow any day,and he went on over the paddocks.When he came to the end of the day, the sun began falling,Up came the night ready to swallow him,like the barrel of a gun,like an old black hat,like a black dog hungry to follow him.Then the pigeon, the magpie and the dove began wailingand the grass lay down to pillow him.His rifle broke, his hat blew away and his dog was gone and the sun was falling.But in front of the night, the rainbow stood on the mountain,just as his heart foretold.He ran like a hare,he climbed like a fox;he caught it in his hands, the colours and the cold -like a bar of ice, like the column of a fountain,like a ring of gold.The pigeon, the magpie and the dove flew up to stare,and the grass stood up again on the mountain.The blacksmith's boy hung the rainbow on his shoulderinstead of his broken gun.Lizards ran out to see, snakes made way for him,and the rainbow shone as brightly as the sun.All the world said, Nobody is braver, nobody is bolder,nobody else has doneanything equal to it. He went home as easy as could bewith the swinging rainbow on his shoulder.”