“Beat me instead," she cried, "It's not Darren's fault! I lost her, I lether go--I cannot be free, I must be chained inside a house androbbed of my hawk, you damned tyrant, but I will not have Preciosachained too!”

“What sorrow is like to the sorrow of one who is alone?Once I dwelt in the company of the king I loved well,And my arm was heavy with the weight of the rings he gave,And my heart weighed down with the gold of his love.The face the king is like the sun to those who surrounded,.But now my heart is emptyAnd I wander along throughout the world.The groves take on their blossoms,The trees and meadows grow fairBut the cuckoo, saddest of singers,Cries forth the only sorrow of the exile,And now my heart hoes wandering,In search of what I shall never see more;All faces are alike to me if I cannot see the face of my king,And all countries are alike to me When I cannot see the fair fields and meadows of my home.So I shall arise and follow my heart in its wanderingFor what is the fair meadow of home to meWhen I cannot see the face of my kingAnd the weight on my arm is but a band of goldWhen the heart is empty of the weight of love.And so I shall go roaming Over the fishers' roadAnd the road of the great whale And beyond the country of the waveWith none to bear me companyBut the memory of those I lovedAnd the songs I sang out of a full heart,And the cuckoo's cry in memory.”

“He said, and his voice was strained as if he had had a mortal wound, 'Gwenhwyfar-' He so seldom spoke her formal name, it was always my lady or my queen, or when he spoke to her in play it was always Gwen. When he spoke it now, it seemed to her she had never heard a sweeter sound. 'Gwenhwyfar. Why do you weep?'Now she must lie, and lie well, because, she could not in honor tell him the truth. She said, 'Because-' and stopped, and then, in a choking voice, she said, 'because I do not know how I shall live if you go away.”

“I think too many people presume to read the divine Scriptures and fall into such terrors as this,' said Patricius sternly. 'Those who presume on their learning will learn, I trust, to listen to their priests for the true interpretations.'The Merlin smiled gently. 'I cannot join you in that wish, brother. I am dedicated to the belief that it is God's will that all men should strive for wisdom in themselves, not look to it from some other. Babes, perhaps, must have their food chewed for them by a nurse, but men may drink and eat of wisdom for themselves.”

“You speak of being afraid. Yet fear is something you generate in yourself, from your mind's lack of control; and you will learn to look at it and discover for yourself when you choose to be afraid. The first thing you must do is acknowledge that the fear is yours, and you can bid it come and go at will. Begin with this; whenever you feel fear that prevents choice say to yourself: 'What has made me feel fear? Why have I chosen to feel this fear preventing my choice, instead of feeling the freedom to choose?' Fear is a way of not allowing yourself to choose freely what you will do next; a way of letting your body's reflexes, not the needs of your mind, choose for you. ...[Y]ou have chosen to do nothing, so that none of the things you fear will come upon you; so your choices are not made by you but by your fear. ... I cannot promise to free you of your fear, only that a time will come when you are the master, and fear will not paralyze you.”

“I love her, Rajasta, I love her too much to hurt her; and I can give her nothing! No vows, no hope of real happiness, only sorrow and pain and, perhaps, shame...”

“For this is the thing the priests do not know, with their One God and One Truth; that there is no such thing as a true tale. Truth has many faces and the truth is like the old road to Avalon; it depends on your own will, and your own thoughts, whither the road will take you, and whether, at the end, you arrive at the Holy Isle of Eternity or among the priests with their bells and their death and their Satan and hell and damnation...but perhaps I am unjust even to them. Even the Lady of the Lake, who hated a priest's robe as she would have hated a poisonous viper, and with good cause too, chid me once for speaking evil of the God.'For all the Gods are one god,' she said to me then, as she had said many times before, and as I have said to my own novices many times, and as every priestess who comes after me will say again, 'and all the Goddesses are one Goddess, and their is only one Initiator. And to every man his own truth, and the God within.'And so, perhaps, the truth winds somewhere between the road to Glastonbury, Isle of the Priests, and the road to Avalon, lost forever in the mists of the Summer Sea.But this is my truth, I who am Morgaine tell you these things, Morgaine who was in later days called Morgan le Fay.”