“He pulled her close. “Someday, I will win your trust, and you will be the one to set me free. I know it.” “I won’t.” Bertie recoiled from both him and the assertion she would do such a thing. “Not ever.”Ariel made no move to touch her again, though his words were a caress. “Don’t make promises you won’t be able to keep.”

“Ariel looked at her then, instead of the sky, instead of the horizon that surely beckoned to him. “Out of a thousand different winds, I think I can resist nine hundred and ninety-nine of them.Now she was the one unable to swallow. “And the last one?” "That one wrenches the beating heart from my chest, the blood from my veins, the marrow from my bones.” Grasping her hand, he brought it up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. Pain radiated from his pale skin, from his eyes, from his lips when they grazed her knuckles. “You’ve two birds to do your bidding, my fair huntress, but I want you to choose me, to love me above all others, to make the pain in my soul worthwhile… or I would be free of you.”

“Say ye love me.Even if its not true, let me keep th' words. -Nate to BertieTell me you love me, at least as much as you love him. -Ariel to Bertie”

“You didn't just write the play, Bertie," Peaseblossom said suddenly. "You ordered the Players about, shouted, and threw an artistic hissy fit. Do you know what that makes you?" "A temperamental fusspot?" Mustardseed guessed. "Crazier than a bag full of crazy?" Moth said. "Close," Peaseblossom said. "It makes her a Director.”

“The collar had restrained his winds but not killed them. They uncoiled from behind the shadows, ready to surround her, to lift her up, to carry her away with only Ariel’s silk-clad arms wrapped about her to keep her from falling.Spirare, they whispered to her like an incantation. Breathe us in.Bertie didn’t mean to, but she inhaled, and everything inside her was a spring morning, a rose opening its petals to the sun, the light coming through the wavering glass of an old, diamond-paned window.Tendrils of wind reached for Bertie with a coaxing hand. Release him, and he will love you.”

“perchance to dream"What are you doing here, Ariel? I would have thought you'd be halfway to Timbuktu."— lisa mantchev perchance to dream”

“You're a little tall to play Ariel." said Moth."And you have way too many muscles," said Mustardseed."But you might be able to pull it off," Cobweb said, "if you can look really constipated.”