“Samhain had its origins, like many modern holidays or celebrations, in pagan times. As the sidhe-seers had been inclined to erect churches andabbeys on their sacred sites, the Vatican had been wont to “Christianize” ancient, pagan celebrations in an if-you-can’t-beat-them-and-don’t-wantto-join-them-rename-it-and-pretend-it-was-yours-all-along campaign.”

“Like sheep, sidhe-seers herd by nature, until you *want* them to go somewhere. Then they're all fluffy bottoms and broken.”

“I've tried to move [the sidhe-seers] during times of peace and quiet and had the luck of a broken mirror nailed beneath an upside-down horseshoe with a ladder nearby that a black cat just walked under.”

“The key to resisting Voice," Barrons instructed, "is finding that place inside you no one else can touch."You mean the sidhe-seer place?" I said, hopping like a one-legged chicken."No, a different place. All people have it. Not just sidhe-seers. We're born alone and we die alone. That place.""I don't get it.""I know. That's why you're hopping.”

“What is trust, sidhe-seer, but expectation that another will behave in a certain fashion, consistent with prior actions?”

“Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears. I'd seen many things in his eyes in the time that I'd known him: lust, amusement, sympathy, mockery, caution, fury. But I had never seen this. Hope. Jericho Barrons had hope, and I was the reason for it. I would never forget his smile. It had illuminated him from the inside out.”

“Don't celebrate yet, Ms. Lane. Don't believe anything is dead until you've burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them.”