The Teller of Small Fortunes

There’s no such thing as greater good—there’s just good, and the more of it we can do, the better.

All cats are slightly magical, don't you know? It's why they're so smug all the time.

our lives are short and shaped by circumstance, and maybe we can’t control most of what’s to come. But we can control how we feel. We can savor the sweetness of a blackberry scone, and the company of our friends, and the warmth of the summer wind at night, and be grateful for it. We can be nothing, and choose to be miserable about it, like you—or we can be nothing, but choose to be happy, and let that be purpose enough.

And I don’t give a rat’s ass whether or not that’s worthy enough a purpose for the likes of you. I am more than just what I do; I am a person, and I am alive, and that is purpose enough.

What was a home but somewhere you wouldn’t have to feel quite so alone?

And the suspicion turns to fear, and the fear, as it always does, turns to anger.

And there’s no inherent virtue in suffering.

I am more than just what I do; I am a person, and I am alive, and that is purpose enough.

I think," [...] "That the old heroes were probably just like us. And there's nothing wrong with being just you.

We’re not always cheerful and funny. We’ve sadness, and anxiety, and all these other bitter things wrapped up inside, too, and that’s what makes the sweetness all the sweeter.

A troll,” repeated Mash grimly, hefting his mace out of its belt loop. “Did it attack you? Threaten violence; seize your goods?” “Eh? No, of course not. It’s worse than that,” said the farmer. “It went and philosophized at us!

Easy to blame foreign folk for anything going wrong, when they’re not here to say otherwise. Easier still when they look and talk funny, and don’t pray to the Mother or her Sons.

Because I’m here! And why not! Aye, our lives are short and shaped by circumstance, and maybe we can’t control most of what’s to come. But we can control how we feel. We can savor the sweetness of a blackberry scone, and the company of our friends, and the warmth of the summer wind at night, and be grateful for it. We can be nothing, and choose to be miserable about it, like you—or we can be nothing, but choose to be happy, and let that be purpose enough. Which sounds more worthwhile to you?

But men are shortsighted. Especially when a heavy crown is blocking their eyes.

We can be nothing, and choose to be miserable about it, like you—or we can be nothing, but choose to be happy, and let that be purpose enough. Which sounds more worthwhile to you?

Fear is the cost of power, Tao. Every mage is afraid. We just learn how to push past it—to use it instead of letting ourselves be imprisoned by it.

I am sad that you have lost so much,” said the old man, empty hand falling back against his side. “I hope you find new joys to take their place.

Familiarity could look very much like love from a certain angle, if one didn’t look too hard.

Sometimes stories have to end so we can go back to real life.

If you’re swindling us, I swear you’ll regret it. And if I die, my ghost’s coming after you. With a very big axe.

Everyone deserves a home, Tao thought, patting Laohu’s whiskery grey nose. And what was a home but somewhere you wouldn’t have to feel quite so alone?

Aye, our lives are short and shaped by circumstance, and maybe we can’t control most of what’s to come. But we can control how we feel. We can savor the sweetness of a blackberry scone, and the company of our friends, and the warmth of the summer wind at night, and be grateful for it. We can be nothing, and choose to be miserable about it, like you—or we can be nothing, but choose to be happy, and let that be purpose enough. Which sounds more worthwhile to you?

...and there's no inherent value in suffering.

All cats are slightly magical

But of course, she had been just a child, and stupid. She had not seen then, as she did now, that no matter how clear her diction and how fine her clothing, she could never become a true Eshteran, for she could not change her eyes or her skin.

You'd think prison guards would figure out not to leave the cell keys just lying around on convenient tables all the time," said Silt gleefully. "Honestly, it's about the third time this has happened to me.

It's like a heist!" Silt said with enthusiasm. "Except instead of gems or gold, we're stealing back our friend." "I think that's called kidnapping," said Kina.

I think you have changed,' said Tao. 'In enough small ways that you just don't quite notice it while it's happening, but then you look in the mirror one day, and you're altogether different. That's how it was for me, anyway.

the Daughter was the last-born of the gods, who had claimed for her own dominion all that was unwanted by her Brothers—the silence in forests unknown; the chaos of ocean