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“Si le voyageur n'espère rien, Il ne verra que ce que voient les yeux.”
― Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt, La Nuit de feu

“She pressed to the wall between that window and the door and held her breath, praying like the spider that no eye would fall on her, as Lady Ariane Conn and her knights brought the naked prisoner from Engline.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Rien drew back among the other upstairs maids, twisting the polishing cloth between her hands, but started when Head’s hand fell upon her.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“She hadn’t understood the plan until she spoke it.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Even if Rien awoke sore and sticky, it was a better awakening than the last.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Rien sat transfixed by the music, old and alien and like nothing she'd heard before. She felt her symbiont accepting the new information, integrating it. Making it part of her flesh and bone. It immersed and surrounded her, but even as she heard it performed, she sensed it as gestalt, knew the notes and chords. She could have played it, if her hands were sufficiently trained to the task. She could have seeing it, if her voice was adequate. She could have rearranged it, resurrected it, reinvented it, if she had been a composer.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“A song, and she’d swallowed it.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Her eyes stung with the beauty.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“She knew what they had been up to, of course; it would have been hard to miss it, between the giggling and the scent of sex-and nobody had ever warned her how disturbing it would be to hear a necromancer giggle-but that was all right, wasn’t it?”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“She didn’t know how close to the heresy of the Go-Backs she trod.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Somehow she managed to enter the corridor, third in line, but dripping all the dignity she could master, and perversely glad she’d smoothed her hair.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“For now, Rien could distract herself with the texture of an alien night and the cold trees, ice and snow and the stars smeared behind a frosty sky.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“If she were to be Exalt, one of these arrogant cryptic beings, it semed unfair that she did not have wings.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Maybe rebellion had gotten its teeth into her soul.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Is that why they’re squabbling over her? They’re trying to marry an heir to the throne? I’m sorry, Tristen, but that’s like some medieval play.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Watching Benedick and Tristen trade glances made her feel even more like a child, and that was not okay.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Maybe she, Rien, should become a sorcerer. Or an angel. Then she could be an asshole, too, and if anybody commented on it, she could shrug and present her union card.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust

“Maybe you could feel all sorts of things, all of them mutually contradictory.”
― Elizabeth Bear, Dust