“She smiled like knife on a velvet, she stretched like cat on the sun.”

“There can be many opinions on a thing, but there is only one truth."Vashet smiled lazily. "And if the pursuit of the truth was my goal, that would concern me." She gave a long yawn, stretching like a happy cat. "Instead I will focus on the joy in my heart, [...}”

“Auri hopped down from the chimney and skipped over to where I stood, her hair streaming behind her. "Hello Kvothe." She took a half-step back. "You reek."I smiled my best smile of the day. "Hello Auri," I said. "You smell like apretty young girl.""I do," she agreed happily.She stepped sideways a little, then forward again, moving lightly on the balls of her bare feet. "What did you bring me?" she asked."What did you bring me?" I countered.She grinned. "I have an apple that thinks it is a pear," she said, holding it up. "And a bun that thinks it is a cat. And a lettuce that thinks it is a lettuce.""It's a clever lettuce then.""Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it was a lettuce?""Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked."Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too." She shook her head sadly, her hair following the motion as if she were underwater.I unwrapped my bundle. "I brought you some potatoes, half a squash,and a bottle of beer that thinks it is a loaf of bread.""What does the squash think it is?" she asked curiously, looking down at it. She held her hands clasped behind her back"It knows it's a squash," I said. "But it's pretending to be the setting sun.""And the potatoes?" she asked."They're sleeping," I said. "And cold, I'm afraid."She looked up at me, her eyes gentle. "Don't be afraid," she said, and reached out and rested her fingers on my cheek for the space of a heartbeat, her touch lighter than the stroke of a feather. "I'm here. You're safe.”

“Hespe's mouth went firm. She didn't scowl exactly, but it looked like she was getting all the pieces of a scowl together in one place, just in case she needed them in a hurry.”

“I like your manly bravado," she said. "Do it some more.”

“She reached up and lay her hand on my cheek. "You have the sweetest face," she said, looking at me dreamily. "It's like the perfect kitchen."I fought not to smile. This was the delirium. She'd fade in and out of it before the profound exhaustion dragged her down into unconsciousness. If you see someone spouting nonsense to themselves in an alleyway in Tarbean, odds are they're not actually crazy, just a sweet-eater deranged by too much denner. "A kitchen?""Yes," she said. "Everything matches and the sugar bowl is right where it should be.”

“I have an apple that thinks its a pear. And a bun that thinks it’s a cat. And a lettuce that thinks its a lettuce.""It’s a clever lettuce, then.""Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it’s a lettuce?""Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked."Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.”