“(Referring to an obsession with Tolkien's Middle Earth): I meet a beautiful American heiress, I like her, she likes me . . . and then she turns out to be a fundamentalist with a more literal interpretation of scripture than I feel comfortable with. Only our bible was written by an Oxford don about sixty years ago.”

“I was father to the land. I saved my people. I was... King."By... earth," he said, more a movement of the lips than a thing of the throat and air. "By... sky..."Another breath, and it did hurt a little now. The next was harder. The women leaned over him, the mothers of his children. He blinked once more. His own mother, her black braids swinging as she rocked his hurt away. She was singing to him:"Manabozho saw some ducksHey, hey, heya heySaid 'Come little brothers, sing and dance';Hey, hey, heya hey--”

“It was hard, to be stripped of the cold comforts of her simple atheistic faith in middle-age. The more so as the evidence seemed to lead to the conclusion that all the religions were true, including the ones that flatly contradicted each other.”

“Grief is the tribute we pay the dead," she said, matter-of-fact sympathy in her voice. "But they don't ask more than we can afford to give. They've never really gone from us, you know, those we love; they're part of our story, and we of theirs.”

“The others saw him as he stumbled down the stairs, bleeding from nose and ears and eyes an mouth. The sheathed form of the Sword lay across his palms. He met their eyes, and choked out:"Remember. Remember, all of you."Mathilda's voice was infinitely gentle. "Remember what?""That I was a man, before I was King. Remember for me, when I forget.His hand closed on the black double-lobed hilt, and the moonfire in the opal glowed. He drew the Sword, thrust it high.And screamed as pain beyond all bearing ripped through him like white fire, turning his body to a thing of ash smoke.He screamed, and knew.”

“Strange, isn't it, that it's always more difficult to talk people out of killing each other than into it?”

“Mackenzies buried a rapist at a crossroads, with a spear thrust in the soil above; and they buried him living when they could, as a sacrifice to turn aside the anger of the Earth Powers.”