Karou wasn’t a prize to win; that wasn’t why he was here. She was a woman and would choose her own life. He was here to do what he could, whatever he could, that she might have a life to choose, one day. Whoever and whatever that included was her own affair.

Innocently, as they moved past her, she added, “Oh, and don’t trip over the body on the floor.

Men should have squint lines from looking at the horizon,” the old librarian had said, “not just from reading in dim light.

I think they both have to be lucky. It’s like, luck friction. One’s flint and one’s steel, striking together to make fire.

Dream up something wild and improbable.

And when her hearts resumed beating, she imagined she could feel a spill of light into the veins that carried her spirit.

Karou’s smile was pure; she was happy to give happiness.

We will fight for our world to the last echo of our souls.

I’ve never liked to call it that,” cut in Thyon – softly, like a confession. “It’s bitter on my tongue. I think of it as the Unseen City instead.

Just because the power is mine, it doesn’t follow that all the choices are.