Quotes from Tanith Lee

Mevary, who was in many ways a fool had still the quick immediate wit of those incapable of prolonged deduction.

Perhaps the young actor was bound in service to the magician, even belonged to him, was a slave, as Shaina herself was a slave.

Unable to confess, they had pleaded to be given peace, pleaded with tears, cries, and ghoulish murders.

Her goal had been before her, clear, uncluttered-now this. The pure order of her will was outraged by the mess.

Loitering stupidly among the orange trees, Romulan stood and hated. Hated the black hair of his father, like his own, the patrician face, very handsome in its way, but unlike, hated the stern, shy, and brutal honorableness, the imposition of will, the lack of-what? Something so simple as the evidence of affection? Valentius was the Tower. In his presence, Romulan shrank, became nine years of age.

My hair, said Cyrion in a confiding tone, "was once the gold of buttercups. The ghastly distresses of my life turned it white when I was a boy of seventeen. A thing not generally known. I hope you will keep the secret.

Cornelia, closest to both of them, felt an almost indescribable pang, somewhere between arousal and astonishment, envy, compassion, and sorrow. Their combined aura was such that to be near them was both fatally desirable and unendurable to a spectator. Like two blazing candles, catching fire and melting into each other, the composite heat and brilliance might scorch anyone in the vicinity.

As ever, the quite ludicrous beauty perturbed him. Romulan, undeniably masculine, was yet somehow his mother, faithfully reproduced. And there he stood, white as death, glaring, incalculable. Love, which was to Valentius no longer expressible, choked him.

So, he does not. Is it his fault? If he is the magician's slave he has no choice about what he will do in the matter of shadows. Have I a choice if Old Ash tells me to get wood?" "Wood and shadows are not the same.

When will you wed, Mercurio?" "Oh, I'd wed Mercurio tomorrow, but he will not have me.

Nothing on earth or under it would induce him to pursue that man in his plain dark blue, to court that man, to tell him his son would do as he was bid. Nor could anything, least of all himself restrain Romulan from obeying his order-inane, not understood, ridiculous, a promise of utter tedium. For to refuse Valentius was to refuse all his forbears, the very mortar of the Tower itself. Such defiance seemed too heavy for Romulan to shoulder, although he ached to do so.

Rumors faster like barnacles around any event, tending to take familiar shapes.

Silly girl, he does not cast a shadow." "So, he does not. Is it his fault? If he is the magician's slave he has no choice about what he will do in the matter of shadows. Have I a choice if Old Ash tells me to get wood?" "Wood and shadows are not the same.

Save your carving for the joint, dear Chesarius, I'll not be dissected.

Shaina got to her feet and clenched her hands. Her eyes, chestnut-colored, almost copper in the fire gloom, were wide and full of hunger, but her mouth was set.

I see you are beginning to read me like a scroll.

His entire body waited on the brink of its own self-knowledge, fiercely and without reticence. As her trust had made him gentle with her, her worship had made him strong.

Against his inclination, which was to be sullen, a sense of enjoyment overtook Romulan.

He met Roilant's gaze with two eyes more clear than the clearest winter sea, and rather colder.

Behind him, the town seemed small on its mount in that enduring clasp of the hills.

The delirious smells had raised even the soldier from the stupor into which the scholar complex narrative had thrown him.

The combination of supernal blamelessness and demoniacal sweetness had never been nor blatant. For a moment Roilant was agitated. Almost repelled. This man he had given stewardship of his lifes and fortunes, what in the name of God was he?

The features of the face suggested strangeness, in a manner that owed nothing to their composition, which was quite ordinary. It was a clever face, and strong, but its cleverness and strength had nothing to do with the world. This man might walk through beauty or filth, through fire or flood or anguish, and not notice it, or at least not suffer it, for his brain was in constant flight, negotiating some other plain beyond all physical things.

Shaina began to walk very fast over the mountain side and westwards towards the delicate, gloomily-shining fang of the witch's mountain.