“He. Does there have to be a he? It seems weak and unoriginal doesn’t it, for stories told by girls to always have a he?”

“I am unlike most other people because I began, not in the body of my mother, but in the brain of my father. He invented me, you see. He sat down one day and dreamed me up. -- The Girl With Borrowed Wings”

“He had an extraordinarily casual air about him. I'd noticed that before, when he had tossed himself out the window.”

“I frowned. Evidently, Sangris wasn't a cat who could shape-shift. It was more difficult than that. He was a nothing who occasionally pretended to be a cat. "I wish I could know what it's like for myself, that's all," I said. I felt rather the way a jail inmate would if a bird flew up and shouted through her window bars: This freedom thing? Yeah, not so great.”

“Pale sky, white land; like somewhere past the end of the world”

“The hard thin body of my childhood was just beginning to miraculously soften like the cracked ground of wadi when rain falls.”

“O cousin Kate, my love was true,Your love was writ in sand:If he had fooled not me but you,If you had stood where i stand,He'd not have won me with his love,Nor bought me with his land;I would have spit into his faceAnd not have taken his hand.Yet I have a gift you have not got,And seem not like to get:For all your clothes and wedding-ringI've little doubt you fret.My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride,Cling closer, closer yet:Your father would give lands for oneto wear his coronet”