“How do you know they're magic and not some mechanical device of the dwarves?" Tanis asked, sensing that Tas was hiding something.
Tas gulped. He had been hoping Tanis wouldn't ask him that question.
"Uh," Tas stammered, "I---I guess I did sort of happened to, uh, mention them to Raistilin one night when you were all busy doing something else. He told me they might be magic. To find out, he said one of those weird spells of his and they--uh--began to glow. That meant they were enchanted. He asked me what they did and I demonstated and he said they were 'glasses of true seeing.' The dwarven magic-users of old made them to read books written in other languages and--" Tas stopped.
"And?" Tanis pursued.
"And--uh--magic spellbooks." Tas's voice was a whisper.
"And what else did Raistlin say?"
"That if I touched his spellbooks or even looked at them sideways, he'd turn me into a cricket and s-swallow m-me whole," Tasselhoff stammered. He looked up at Tanis with his wide eyed. "I belived him, too."
Tanis shook his head. Trust Raistlin to come up with a threat awful enough to quensh the curiosity of a kender.”
“If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear the pain of loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater.”
“Why insult the door's purpose by locking it?" is a favorite kender expression.”
“Do not enter with defeat in your heart for that is the first victory of evil.”
“Raistlin lay on the floor, his skin white, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth. Kneeling down, Caramon lifted him in his arms.
"Raistlin?" he whispered. "What happened?"
"That's what happened," Tanis said grimly, pointing.
Caramon glanced up, his gaze coming to rest on the dragon orb - now grown to the size Caramon had seen in Silvanesti. It stood on the stand Raistlin had made for it. Caramon sucked in his breath in horror. Terrible visions of Lorac flooded his mind. Lorac insane, dying...
"Raist!" he moaned, clutching his brother tightly.
Raistlin's head moved feebly. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his mouth.
"What?" Caramon bent low, his brother's breath cold upon his skin. "What?"
"Mine..." Raistlin whispered. "Spells...of the ancients...mine...Mine..." The mage's head lolled, his words died. But his face was calm, placid, relaxed. His breathing grew regular.”
“Be thankful you can feel pity and horror at the death of an enemy. The day we cease to care, even for our enemies, is the day we have lost this battle.”
“Tanis listens to his feelings. He does not suppress them, as does the knight, or hide them, as does the Plainsman. Tanis realizes that sometimes a leader must think with his heart and not his head.” Raistlin glanced at her. “Remember that.”
“ ‘Trouble borrowed will be paid back with interest compounded on sorrow.”
“But he could not help wondering, as he did, that if he was so damn wise, why was his life in such a mess?”
“How dare you accuse me of your own failings?” Laurana returned. “I love Elistan. I reverence him.”
“It is written in the Disks of Mishakal that evil, by its very nature, will always turn in upon itself. Thus it becomes self-defeating.”
“Laurana looked blankly at the others. They avoided her eyes. Then Theros came up to her. “I’ve lived in this world nearly fifty years, young woman,” he said gently. “Not long to you elves, I know. But we humans live those years, we don’t just let them drift by. And I’ll tell you this—that girl loves your brother as truly as I’ve ever seen woman love man. And he loves her. Such love cannot come to evil. For the sake of their love alone, I’d follow them into a dragon’s den.”
“Save your energy,” he said. “The future changes as we stand here, else we are the game pieces of the gods, not their heirs, as we have been promised.”
“The next night I went back to the sea dressed in 1950s silk travel scarves – Paris with the Eiffel tower and ladies in hats and pink poodles, Venice with bronze horses and gondoliers, New York in celestial blue and silver. I brought candles and lit the candles, all the candles, in a circle around the lifeguard stand and put a tape in my boom box. I came down the ramp with the sea lapping at my feet and the air like a scarf of warm silk and the stars like my tiara. And my angel was sitting there solemnly in the sand, sitting cross-legged like a buddha, with sand freckling his brown limbs and he watched me the way no boy had ever watched me before, with so much tenderness and also a tremendous sorrow, which was what my dances were about just as much, the sorrow of not being loved the way my womb, rocking emptily inside of me, insisted I be loved, the sorrow of never finding the thing I had been searching for.”
“He forgot about me almost as soon as I disappeared from sight.”
“...my conscience has the same hard reality as a unicorn.”
“In raining bullets on those silent faces, already turned away from this world, you think you are disfiguring the face of our truth.”
“Pleasure is, after all, a luxury. It's love that's essential.”
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