“When it's like this, I don't notice the cold. I don't hear the wind howling through the empty spaces. I don't feel like a small, broken-winged bird trapped in a rusty cage.”

“-She is like the wind, open and free. If I cage the wind, would it die?-Then don't cage it, Mikhail. Trust it to stay beside you.”

“how does she know it's the right room?' wondered Descant.Oh, I don't know; mabye it's the magical red glow coming from the doorway, or perhaps it's the deafening howl of the temporal winds.' said Mervall. Descant nodded.'You could be right, brother. And don't think I don't know sarcasm when I hear it.”

“I don't like cages,”

“I do not like sitting idly by when something clearly isn't right. I feel... not trapped but something like it, and I don't know what to about.”

“I don't know what came over me. It's like sometimes when it's very quiet I feel like screaming. And sometimes when I'm holding something delicate I feel like dropping it. I don't know why.”