“Creatures with no dreams of their own can do naught but destroy the dreams of others.”
“I miss sunrise even more. The green scent of dawn in the forest? The color blushing back into the world, different every day.”
“It was a bold, wild life for a faerie - most never even left their forests - but she was a bold, wild lass, and so were her daughter and granddaughter after her, and their place in the world was everywhere and nowhere, like gypsies on wing. No home had they but their caravans and campfires, and no family but the one they'd cobbled together of crows, creatures and kindred souls they'd met on their endless journey round and round the world.”
“That faeries have forgotten the Tapestry; that is the greatest tragedy of all. It's the fabric of all creation and it's woven of dreams, the dreams of the Djinn. Dreams are real, Magpie. They're seed and water and sun. They're everything.”
“All the bogeymen together, sitting down to tea.”
“Humans had a genius for devising instruments of death. Their lives were so short and they seemed to value them so little, sending waves of men to clash in battlefields, then weighing victory by the piled corpses. And if they held their own lives so worthless, the lives of everything else were as fruit to pluck from trees.”
“It was Hiss who won by stamping on another’s foot, and he spent the meal staring at Poppy and missing his mouth with his spoon.”
“But you can wake a man only if he is really asleep. No effort that you make will produce any effect upon him if he is merely pretending sleep.”
“I don’t think you have to do something so big to be brave. And it’s the little things that are harder anyway.”
“Onua smiled. She knew an old grievance when she heard one. “Then why wear ’em? Get yourself breeches and a shirt like me.” Daine gaped at her. “Men’s gear? With folk talking about me all the time as is?” Onua shook her head. “You’re not home now. The rules have changed.” Daine opened her mouth to object—then closed it. She looked at her skirts. To be rid of them, and the petticoats . . . it hit her, really hit her, that she was free of Snowsdale. What could they do to her now?”
“Did you ever wonder if the person in the picture is the same one you see when you look in the mirror?" - "That's the eternal question, isn't it? Are we born who we are, or do we make ourselves that way?”
“I'm not dreaming this, am I?" he asked.
Dehvi lifted an eyebrow. "There's only one way to know for sure," he said.
Go piss in the woods. If you feel wet and warm afterward, wake up.”
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