“Suddenly, from all the green around you,something-you don't know what-has disappeared;you feel it creeping closer to the window,in total silence. From the nearby woodyou hear the urgent whistling of a plover,reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome:so much solitude and passion comefrom that one voice, whose fierce request the downpourwill grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glideaway from us, cautiously, as thoughthey weren't supposed to hear what we are saying.And reflected on the faded tapestries now;the chill, uncertain sunlight of those longchildhood hours when you were so afraid.- Before Summer Rain”

“Sometimes when you have a wild dream [massive vision]people intend to run away from you but is not that they hate you or jealous of you. Simply they can't see what you see, they can't hear what you hear and they don't know what you know. The best thing is to love them in spite of their silence.”

“Do I feel ancient to you now?" he murmered. "Too different from the person you loved before you knew this?" Her eyes were already glowing green, and her full lips parted. "No, you don't feel too ancient." Her voice was husky. "Or too different. You feel like mine. Whoever you were, whoever you are...you're mine." Mencheres smiled, his fangs stretching to their full length. "So you have spoken, so it shall be decreed. For all eternity.”

“Are you sure it wouldn't work?" said Jo urgently, in a quiet voice. "Are you sure you don't want to see him again?Laura wanted to laugh. Those were two totally separate things, weren't they?”

“I never smiled much." His voice was a low purr in the shadows. "Don't be silly," she replied, taking a step closer to the next portrait--and farther away from him. "You smile all the time." "At you," he conceded, "with you, because of you.”

“He began to understand suddenly what friends were for: they reminded you that things weren't so bad after all. Reminded you never to stop laughing at yourself.”