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— Lauren Kate"Arriane sized her up, tapping one finger against her lips. "Perfect," she said, stepping forward to loop her arm through Luce's. "I was just thinking I could really use a new slave."
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You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.
— Janet Fitch
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One day you will hear the sound of time rustling as it slips through your fingers like sand. Remember me then. I wish you luck.
— Sergei Lukyanenko
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