Quotes from Storm Constantine

Already an atmosphere of anticipation, rivalling that of before the play, was intensifying.

A person yearning for suicide is afraid of nothing, surely. And this incredible twin, rising through the water wearing his own face, seemed a terrible thing to face. He was afraid of losing himself to the vision, the bright Finnigin that had risen to rebirth.

You are like a character from a story, who has strayed from the path, but strives for redemption.

All that existed was the direction I travelled; an invisible path in the mettle of manifestation. I was the spirit of all soulscapers, past and present.

We're here because it's honest. I feel like being honest tonight.

Lily was slightly disturbed and slightly thrilled, when this unusual female leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Her voice was low, beautiful. When she took off her glasses, her eyes would be large and deep as ocean pools.

He knew that he'd accepted the past, but he did not relish its return. Out here, he was safe from it, or so he'd thought.

I shrugged, slightly unnerved by the feverish joy in the other girls' eyes.

In her present mood, the prospect of sacrifice would have livened up what she otherwise anticipated would be a bleak event.

It was as if they were trying to eat into one another's bodies, absorb the part of them that would be forever outside.

The sea dragons remained a tantalizing myth, and if they had risen from the deep to touch the hearts and minds of two young intiates, they had once again sunk into dreams

The song changed, became more conventional, and the words burned into Khaster's mind. Could they possibly be addressed to him? The song was about the stupidity and waste of self-hatred, about realizing the wonder of life, becoming free from fear and misery.

Where had the delicate silent child gone, who'd been more like a mute mermaid stranded on land than a human being? What he saw now was a determined young woman who despite the passion of her words spoke clearly and firmly.

He wanted to feel the touch of those hands himself, discover whether it would affect him in the same way.

For the space of a moon, she fought her conscience, then, beneath the cloak of a moonless night, managed to flee the fortress.

He was exquisite; almost too good to brisk, and yet, someone, somewhere, had surrendered him, this lovely son, for our refreshment. I could have wept at the gesture.

He knew there were dreams waiting for him, and could even feel their shadowy presences rusting in the corners of the room, among his clothes in the wardrobe, beneath his bed.

The women around her, many of whom she knew, were not showing their everyday faces. They did know something, she could sense it. They hid their secret faces behind a screen, but now it was drawn back.

It is the breath of Caradore, its fragrance. He needs to carry that with him.

When Almorante gets an idea, he pursues it until it's brought to the ground." "What idea?" "He wants to cultivate you. You are Caradorean, and a kinsman by marriage of the Caradorean who holds the emperor's right hand." "You mean Valraven? We are not close friends." "Not anymore, no. That only makes you more valuable.

This was what he enjoyed most; a game of words.

I heard your dreams, Tamara Trewlynn. I heard your lonely call.

He felt a little like the keeper of an unpredictable wild beast, beautiful in its unchained splendour, purring and rubbing against him, but able to turn on him without warning.