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“Your father always suspected that being pretty-minded is simply the natural state for most people. They want to be vapid and lazy and vain—Maddy glanced at Tally—and selfish. It only takes a twist to lock in that part of their personalities. He always thought that some people could think their way out of it.”

“Your father even wrote the first theories about daytime dreaming in this library." She smiles at Albert, a look of pride. "He invented daydreams, you know," she says, looking back to me. "A way for humans to dream up wild, unthinkable things right in the middle of the afternoon, without ever needing to go to sleep." I think back to my own daydreams, moments when I'd managed to lose myself in thought, especially in my old life: dreaming of a future with Jack, dreaming of who I might be if I ever escaped Dr. Finkelstein.”

“Your father has a fondness for orchids." Could she know my father's affinity for orchids is in direct correlation with his affinity for my mother? "Much too finicky for me. I prefer azaleas. When I was a little girl, I used to drink the nectar from the flowers." I brighten a little. "I did that, too." Mom had azalea plants all over our property. She taught me how to pull the blossom from the stem and slurp from the tip of the flower like her mother had shown her. I always thought it was something unique to us, to our family. But maybe it was more. A connection to Japan, an invisible tether. "Is there a variety you prefer? I quite enjoy the omurasaki." I've caught her attention. "It is a lovely bloom," she says.”

“Your father is waiting, so fly up that mountain and through the alomb. Find Nardukha and tell him I have upheld my end of the bargain. Now it is his turn.” He stares at me, a dangerous light in his eye, and then his gaze travels beyond me, in the direction of the funeral. My hand moves to his muscled forearm, and I squeeze it hard. “ No. ” He sneers, his hand moving quickly to catch mine. He yanks me close, his head bending to look down at me. “Zahra,” he murmurs, his voice like falling rocks. “Why do you care for these humans? For thousands of years they have enslaved you, forced you to bend and bow to their silly whims. They have mistreated you, abused you, and yet you defend them still?” He drops his morning star to cradle my head in his other hand, and he licks his lips. His fangs flash. “Come with me to Ambadya. Be my bride, as you were always meant to be.” Revulsion choking my throat, I pull away, slapping him hard across the jaw, but he barely registers the blow. “I’m not anything to you, Zhian. I never will be. You should have abandoned that notion long ago.” “I did not bargain for your life so that you could play servant to these mortals! My father would have killed you thousands of years ago, like all the other Shaitan, if I hadn’t intervened!” “I never asked you to.” He roars, and I clap my hands over my ears at the terrible sound. Somewhere behind me, a horn blasts twice. “They heard you, you fool!” I snap. “The Eristrati are coming, and their charmers will bottle you up again! Go, go !” He snarls, his hand grabbing for me, but I shift into a tiger and snarl back at him, my hackles on end. Get out of here, Zhian! Go find Nardukha and tell him I have set you free! Now he must free me. The horn blasts again. At last Zhian comes to his senses, and he pulls back, scowling. I’ll be back for you, he promises. And you and I will be joined at last, the jinn prince and his princess, unstoppable and undisputed!”

“Your father, Jo. He never loses patience,--never doubts or complains,--but always hopes, and works and waits so cheerfully, that one is ashamed to do otherwise before him. He helped and comforted me, and showed me that I must try to practise all the virtues I would have my little girls possess, for I was their example. It was easier for your sakes than for my own; a startled or surprised look from one of you, when I spoke sharply, rebuked me more than any words could have done; and the love, respect, and confidence of my children was the sweetest reward I could receive for my efforts to be the woman I would have them copy.”

“your father left. when you were in the womb. took his blood. and walked out the door. while you were in the house of your mother. in the house of your mother. took his blood. when you needed it most. if he could keep searching his hands. in the midst of your creation. could hear you forming on your mother’s life. on his life. and gather all his feet in secret. all the other wild adventures of missing. he would drag you through. would only ever be this wound. over and over and over again. your father left. when you were in the womb. took his blood. and walked out the door. it would be the first and final. of all the leavings. — all the leavings”

“Your father ruined my life; you will not ruin my daughter's! I don't give a damn for your rank. You will marry her, do you understand me?" "Papa!" "Stay out of this, girl---" "No, you stay out of it!" she shouted without warning. He looked her up and down in outrage, but Kate's temper snapped. "Leave him alone! I've managed just fine these past many years without a father, so don't think you can come barging into my life and immediately tell me whom to marry!" "Oho, so you do reproach me?" he exclaimed. "I knew it!" "You sailed off and forgot about me!" she cried. "I did not!" "You went on with your life! Your new family. Well, I went on with mine, too," she flung out as the anger burst from her more sharply than she had intended. "Warrington is my lover. So what? Welcome to the world.”

“Your father's last words were touching." Elie's breath hitched. "You're lying." "Why would I do that?" He reached into his vest and withdrew a silver chain. Dropping the piece into Ellie's hand, she realized what is was- her mother's ring, on the chain her dad always wore around his neck. "Hold your gusto, darlin'," he drawled, breath hot on her neck. "I didn't kill him." Ellie shook her head, staring at the ring. "How dare you?" she whispered. Jutting her chin out, Ellie grasped the front of Terrence's shirt. "So help me God, I'll-" "Making threats are we, now?" His brows raised in mock fear. "You're not in a place to be doing that." Open handed, Terrence shoved straight finger's into Ellie's ribs, sending her to the ground. Pain zig-zagged through her torso, nearly making her vomit. Ellie glared up at North as she willed the air back into her lungs. "I will never stop fighting," she wheezed as the room drifted out of focus then back again. Terrence crouched next to her. "Just remember lover-boy the next time you think about getting in my way.”

“Your father will be at the house party?" "He wasn't planning on going, but as soon as he finds out you and I will be there together, he'll change his plans. I have no doubt." The party would be excruciating with Warren York there. "And you don't trust him enough with the truth." Ellison nodded. "No way. He would tell me it wasn't worth it. He'd rather lose the company, lose everything, than imagine the two of us happily together, even if it's fake. Appearances are everything to him." I ground my teeth together again. "He hates me that much?" Ellison brushed past me to set his bottle next to mine by the sink. On his way out of the kitchen, he looked back over his shoulder. "No. He hates me that much." And then he disappeared down the hall.”

“Your father you esteem. Your mother you pamper. Your relatives you regard. Your friends you value. Your neighbors you respect. Your enemies you pardon.”