A sorrow is a resourceful beast.

You will live as you live in any world,' Madame Lebedeva said. She reached out her hand as if to grasp Marya's, as if to press it to her cheek, then closed her fingers, as if Marya's hand were in hers. 'With difficulty, and grief.

The burnt-off connectors and shadows where Ravan once filled my spaces— those, I think, are the sensations of grief.

Readers will always insist on adventures, and though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.