"Song falls silent, music is dumb, But the air burns with their fragrance, And white winter, on its knees, Observes everything with reverent attention."

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No one expects a woman busy at her sewing to pay attention to what’s being said around her. Nevermind if a man’s mother and sister showerd them they heard everything while they stictched, he’ll still think a woman who plies her needles saves all her brains for the work. You’re a far better spy hemming sheets than if you clank with daggers.

— Tamora Pierce