Quotes from Storm Constantine

Tatrini could see why he'd caused so much trouble in his life. She believed that true beauty was essentually fueled by evil. Almorante had loved him, as had Bayard, in his peculiar way, and also Khaster Leckery. Now, it appeared, Valraven Palindrake had been visiting Tayven in captivity. Was this another lovelorn victim? If Bayard possessed half of Tayven's essence, he would be an indomitable force, but that perhaps was not a desirable circumstance.

Before the year was out, she would change the known world, but it would look as if others' hands were responsible.

Jeopardy had the potential to create a great movement, something that would touch every heart in Gleberume, and perhaps beyond. But he realised that by doing that he would simply become the thing he hated most. He would crush the Ixmarities' power, yes, but he would attain it himself. He did not want that. We were to be part of it, Trajan, because all of us, Cleo, you and I, were somehow part of Resenence Jeopardy. He told me this.

For his own reasons, Othman objected to those who sought to govern the movements of others of his kind. His movements, after all, would always be considered suspect. His heart went out to the Murkasters. He felt he knew exactly what had happened to them, and it was not a flight into exile.

Varian, you are wasting time. There are things you must attend to. Those delightful little playthings of yours are here. Downstairs. They're in a terrible state. I really think you ought to have a word with them.

My heart was fluttering madly as if I was in the presence of a new lover, of whom I was uncertain.

The child was my little seed. As had been promised in the ritual, I would haunt her to womanhood. I would nurture and strengthen her powers from afar. She would flourish within the caul of my benevolence.

Part of Owen lives inside him, because he had stolen it. Only by giving it back could Owen be restored, but Shem was physically incapable of achieving that at present. He had forgotten how to give.

She scratched and her hair and stretched her limbs with a groan; a woman who oozed power and confidence.

Quickly, the gold fell away, and then, as if they were somehow made of a lighter substance, Ays and the other shot upwards. They ascended in a shroud of hair, in ribbons of blood, up through the milky water. And it was not so far.

You were the one that led them a merry dance. Now, I expect, they will want an explanation. I myself am waiting to hear it.

My deductions have not impressed you at all, which leads me to think that you knew everything already.

I noticed a still face in the maelstorm of activity; a white-skinned face, that did not smile. Shadow eyes. A veil about the head. I felt suddenly cold. The whirling corynantic dancers became mere phantoms in the aura of this motionless figure, this other woman. Her body was wrapped in a thick, dark cloak; only her face was visible. As if she'd been waiting for me to notice her, she came towards me, this true harpy-woman; her white face expressionless.

The dawn was beginning to bloom around him, and already the land was held in that surreal stillness that heralds the transition between night and day.

Ays is my lost soul, he though, my lost soul wandering.

Now you have told me your story, I feel there's a reason behind everything that's happened to me. I don't know if I can make a difference to anything, but if people don't try, nothing will change. I'm eager to try. I want knowledge and strength. I want to go on from here one day and find the dark heart of Magravandias. I want to crush it." Taropat smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.

Tiy, the seeress, sat nearby, upright in a chair, her fingers gripping its arms. Nimezzar had never seen her relax; she always seemed to be straining forward against life.

I heard the scrape of a soft shoe and then the curtain was lifted by a single hand. I saw the long slim arm and the dark shape of the body, a tumble of loose hair that fell about him like a frayed cloak. He brought a breeze with him that warmed the flame of the lamp, and sent shadows of laughter across the face of the goddess.

Dream or reality? I still don't know which. But I was aware, in my heart, that illusion or not, I was no longer virgin in this body, and that Beth Metatronim was responsible for it.

An empty page. A new story waiting for a thought, a hint, a desire.

These moments, here in this house, your lovely house, should not be sullied by thoughts of Death; they are a time for Life.

I was hired to tell stories of my experiences more of than for my soulscaping skills, because Atruscans love stories of any kind, and pester all travellers to tell a few.

You are unbelievable at times." "Many people have thought so," Shem answered dryly, "but despite unbelief, I still exist.

He seemed to be dancing alone, Cressida a mere elemental shadow around him. How beautiful he looked.