“Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are.”

“A forest," William said, his expression distant. "Where the ground is dry soil and stone. Where tall trees grow and centuries of autumn carpet their roots. Where the wind smells of game and wildflowers.""Why, that was lovely, Lord Bill. Do you ever write poetry? Something for your blueblood lady?""No.""She doesn't like poetry?""Leave it."Hehe. "Oh, so you have a lady. How interes--”

“Everything is winged in this universe, even a rock! When the time comes, rock crumbles into tiny pieces and starts flying in the air!”

“Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.”

“Living with hope is like rubbing up against a cheese grater. It keeps taking slices off you until there's so little left you just crumble.”

“When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn't matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.”