“To behold Queen Gwenhwyvar and the Lady of the Lake together was to peer too long into the sun's brilliant dazzle, to feel the heart lurch in the breast for yearning, to have the words stolen from the tongue before the lips could speak them.”

“Three things cannot be called back: the arrow when it speeds from the bow, the milk when the churn is upturned, the word when it leaps from the tongue.”

“...tell me the word that will win you, and I will speak it. I will speak the stars of heaven into a crown for your head; I will speak the flowers of the field into a cloak; I will speak the racing stream into a melody for your ears and the voices of a thousand larks to sing it; I will speak the softness of night for your bed and the warmth of summer for your coverlet; I will speak the brightness of flame to light your way and the luster of gold to shine in your smile; I will speak until the hardness in you melts away and your heart is free...”

“Earth and sky, rock and wind, bear witness!By the power of the Swift Sure Hand, I claim this ground and sain it with a name: Bwgan Bwlch!Power of fire I have over it,Power of wind I have over it,Power of thunder I have over it,Power of wrath I have over it,Power of heavens I have over it,Power of earth I have over it,Power of worlds I have over it!As tramples the swan upon the lake,As tramples the horse upon the plain,As tramples the ox upon the meadow,As tramples the boar upon the track,As tramples the forest host of heart and hind,As tramples all quick things upon the earth,I do trample and subdue it,And drive all evil from it!In the name of the Secret One,In the name of the Living One,In the name of the All-Encircling One,In the name of the One True Word, it is Bwgan Bwlch,Let it so remain as long as men surviveTo breath the name.”

“The Queen of Air and Darkness tilted back her head and laughed. A more ghastly sound I hope never to hear. ‘Do you think I care about these trifles?’‘Murder is no trifle, woman,’ Arthur said. ‘No? How many men have you killed, Great King? How many have you slain without cause? How many did you cut down that you might have spared? How many died because you in your battle-rage would not heed their pleas for mercy?’The High King opened his mouth to speak, but could make no answer.”

“And it came to me while I [Merlin] was singing - watching the ring of faces around the night's fire, their eyes glinting like dark sparks, gazing raptly as the song kindled and took light in their souls - it came to me that the way to men's souls was through their hearts, not through their minds. As much as a man might be convinced in his mind, as long as his heart remained unchanged all persuasion would fail. The surest way to the heart is through song and story: a single tale of high and noble deeds spoke to men more forcefully than all of blessed Dafyd's homilies.I do not know why this should be, but I believe it to be true. I have seen the humble folk crowd into the chapel in the wood to receive the mass. In all sincerity they kneel before the holy altar, mute, reverent, as they should be, but also uncomprehending.Yet, I have seen the eyes of their souls awaken when Dafyd reads out, "Listen, in a far country there lived a king who had two sons..."Perhaps it is how we are made; perhaps words of truth reach us best through the heart, and stories and songs are the language of the heart.”

“Perhaps it is how we are made; perhaps words of truth reach us best through the heart, and stories and songs are the language of the heart”