“She likes the parts of me that are broken; she likes them the way a thief likes a loose screen.”

“To me, fiction is a fast-track to the sort of truth with which facts interfere.”

“Right, what's there possibly to worry about?" she said. "Just some surgery in the garage with a drunk doctor."Little miss," said Doc, pointing a finger at Cass. "I'm drinking. I'm not drunk. There's a difference." He took another sip from his cup. "But in another ten minutes or so, that might change, so you should stop stalling.”

“She was prisoner to an old, forgotten god, kept from her home, probably never to see it again, and yet... the way she sat, poised, calm, clear like a full moon night, she seemed much happier than me, the witch who contained them all, the jailer with the magic key.”

“She loved the way her city always sounded like it was celebrating.”

“Tallennar. I knew what it meant. It meant thief. Well, that was all right. Because a thief really was a lot like a wizard.”

“But as I listened to my various mentors argue away the afternoon, I finally caught on to the basic point of it all. With chocolate, there are no straight answers. There are only strongly held opinions.”