“Karou saw them with her human eyes, this army she had rendered more monstrous than ever nature had, and she knew what the world would see in them if they flew to fight the Dominion: demons, nightmares, evil. The sight of the seraphim would be heralded as a miracle. But chimaera? The apocalypse.”

“But supposed she had a sudden urge to see their faces and turned to look at them - what would she see? Probably she would find that their backs were turned to her as well.”

“Something soft turn to stone within her. She had no choice. She had to fight. She had to win. She would learn. And then she'd free them.Or join them.”

“Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left...They were everything. Everything was there, in them...Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would see only what there was to see: the eyes of other people.”

“She smiled, content in knowing no one had ever loved her as much as Lucas, and now she knew why. Because no one could love her more, or better, than the demon king.”

“It had occurred to Pecola some time ago that if her eyes, those eyes that held the pictures, and knew the sights—if those eyes of hers were different, that is to say, beautiful, she herself would be different.”