Quotes from Storm Constantine

How fragile she had appeared, so breakable, in her borrowed finery and painted child's face.

She was like a feather on her father's arm. He might forget what she was and accidentally brush her away, or wind would come and she'd be blown high, high up into the ancient arches, where a colony of gargoyles was frozen against the walls. She'd hang there, watching herself walk towards her fate, and then she'd just fly away, out into the endless sky, turning and turning.

Why do you have to develop a sense of loyalty now? It is tiresome and unexpected.

We do not know the future, but we can work toward the best possible outcome.

My father was still using every available opportunity to clip me for my part in Sammael's re-emergence into the world.

Verity was sickened by the mere sight of Othman, as it reminded her of what she'd seen in her father's study on Friday night. Yet his power and his beauty filled the room, bringing with it a sense of well-being and joy, as well as fascinating undercurrents of forbidden and wicked pleasures. Verity acknowledged Othman's power, and was wary of it, but she was not totally immune.

Today, we were women travelling together, soulscapers on the road, and we could conserve our power by cheating fate to others' advantage. It is a strange code we live by.

Our elders wanted to forget the past, and relatively youthful people, like myself, complied with their wishes; we had been trained to fear our history.

To Othman, it was like a fine brandy, a perfect Armagnac, rolled around the tongue. Such fiery, yet delicate flavours. The garden of Low Mede was ancient, timeless. Hanging there, a ragged shadow some inches above the ground, hidden among the old-fashioned shrubs, the esctatic bouquets of flowers rooted in the earth, Othman vicariously enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. Hadn't he primed Owen for this?

Lily, something is happening to me, to my mind. I feel weak and afraid. We are kin, you and Owen and I. You must not turn away from me.

You look furtive, my dear. I hope you haven't done any interfering in that quarter as well.

His long golden hair hung towards the grey, rug-covered flagstones like precious rags torn from a queen's train.

Only your death can bring back the knowledge of the past. Your soul must be snuffed out like an exploding sun. Run away from it, Shemyaza. Disappear into the world. Become Peveral Othman again. It is what you really want. You're not a saviour, you never wanted to be. Others have shaped you in the image of their desires.

He wrinkled his nose in vexation, struggling for words to form concepts he barely grasped.

Finnigin, you are guilty of great presumption! Just because Babooshpet did not speak to you, did not necessarily mean she lacked the ability to do so.

I listened to them being bravely humorous, overtaken by a sense of distance from them, sheer unreality.

Oh, Verity, let it go. You have built a shrine within you that calls to ghosts.

Akahana was dizzying, mainly because it seemed to be several different places at once. On the surface, it was all hustle and heat, yet Shan was immediately aware of a dark and inscrutable undercurrent-magic hanging in the air, as Sinaclara had foretold. It also seemed as if if the ancient past was very close to the present and that it would be possible, either accidentally or otherwise to slip between the two.

It seemed inconceivable she would be strong enough to mature, in this world of so many perils.

She has a belief in herself that creates an area of safety.

Blood scared them now. The god of blood had come visiting and put his mark upon them. He had murdered the God with no name and desecrated His chapel.

Rav enjoyed having a hidden life, which others knew nothing about. He looked forward to the meetings in the old dark chamber and the powerful and beautiful words Tatrini was teaching them. He enjoyed the shivery feelings that coursed through his body and made the hairs on his arms stand up.

The deity had the light, melodramatic voice of an artificial being programmed by a religious fanatic.

Othman willed her face to turn to him. He could see she was anxious, uncertain, but recognised within her eyes a hunger for him.