Quotes from Storm Constantine

I felt heady in the swirl of colour, skirts of deep red, emerald green, peacock blue, the glint of yellow metal. Quick hands brushed our faces, and a blur of white-toothed smiles flashed around us. I couldn't help laughing aloud, batting these flapping creatures away from me. They were like soulscape harpies in plumage of white silk, who might carry us off to a final and exquisite devouring.

Tatrini watched Tayven and Rav outside, as they sat on the lawn: a picture of contentment and innocence.

No matter how often I had tried to change the image in my head, whenever I thought of my guardian pursuers, I masked them with the faces of the Metatronims I had seen in Sacramante.

The Goddess didn't dish out favours and punishments in accordance with a rigid dogma; she was merely a feeling, the spark inside that made you laugh and dance or kept you close to the earth like a cat, stalking and turned-on with power.

In this life, he had inflicted pain upon many people without feeling the slightest twinge of compassion, yet contemplation of Shemyaza's martyrdom kindled panic in Othman's heart.

I think she's running from a broken heart. She left it behind her somewhere, but she can still hear it cracking.

She wished for what would happen to be something incredible and life-changing. She wished for it to be important.

You are a very vain woman, Rayojini! Why do you think I spend my entire time thinking up conundrums to perplex you? I have better things to think about

In my heart, I'd worried that the presence of the Metatronim would follow me back to Taparak and haunt my dreams forever. It did not happen that way, exactly.

It had to come from me. He would say nothing otherwise.

In a way, he wanted to run, so that no-one would know that Owen was waiting there for him. Another, braver part of him welcomed the moment of surprise when this fact became obvious.

Daniel tried to explain to his sister what kind of creature Othman was. Verity supposed this was no more unlikely than all the other things she'd experienced over the last week or so.

The thought of sex conjured murky, flickering memories of dark rituals he had performed, debasement, torture, unspeakable defilement of spirit and flesh. Despite his claims of indifference, he could not disassociate himself from those events.

We dwell in forever.

I have been writing now for over a week. I find it cleansing, refreshing; it is good for me." (p.531)

If life is a battle, then my inner scars are medals for valor, for swiftness, for courage, for passion. Evil is the dark-haired brother of Good; they walk hand in hand—always.

Being a child is such a shining gift, yet we don't know how precious it is until it's worn out and gone away.

There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality.

Are you saying that he deserves to die?' I asked, chilled. 'We all deserve to die,' he answered.

He had the compassion of a vivisectionist.

love's shadow is jealousy.

I found it hateful, yet I wanted to be part of it.

We had given it a name, a substance, and somehow, in doing that, we had condemned ourselves.

The bloody times, the horror, will just be history to them, words on a page, so how will they dare to judge? Very easily, I should imagine.