“I could not begin to mourn Deborah or my mind would ride off with me. There was nothing so delicate in all the world as one's last touch of control.”

“You act as if I were your enemy.“You are my enemy. You seek to end the things I love.”And is an ending always bad? it asked. Must not all things, even worlds, someday end?“There is no need to hasten that end,” Vin said. “No reason to force it.”All things are subject to their own nature, Vin, Ruin said, seeming to flow around her. She could feel its touch on her—wet and delicate, like mist. You cannot blame me for what I am. Without me, nothing would end. Nothing could end. And therefore, nothing could grow. I am life. Would you fight life itself?Vin fell silent.Do not mourn because the day of this world’s end has arrived, Ruin said. That end was ordained the very day of the world’s conception. There is a beauty in death—the beauty of finality, the beauty of completion.For nothing is truly complete until the day it is finally destroyed.”

“I was heading off to my new world. But I was taking a part of my past, and the future, along with me for the ride.”

“But she wouldn't. I knew that already. My mother and I had an understanding: we worked together to be as much in control of our shared world as possible. I was suposed to be her other half, carrying my share of the weight. In the last few weeks, I'd tried to shed it, and doing so sent everything off kilter. So of course she would pull me tighter, keeping me in my place, because doing so meant she would always be sure, somehow, of her own.”

“Nothing will ever touch us. You are all that matters to me, my angel, and I would walk through hell just to touch your face.”

“I would rather live in a world where my life is surrounded by mystery than live in a world so small that my mind could comprehend it.”