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“You lied to us. You gave us false hope. You told us that the future was something to look forward to. And the saddest thing is that most children are not even aware of the fate that awaits us. We will not understand it until it’s too late. And yet we are the lucky ones. Those who will be affected the hardest are already suffering the consequences. But their voices are not heard. Is my microphone on? Can you hear me?”

“You lift your head, you’re on your way, but really just to be walking, to be out of doors. That’s it, that’s all, and you’re there. Outdoors is our element: the exact sensation of living there.”

“You light a fire early in your girlhood. You stoke it and tend it. You protect it at all costs. You don't let it rage into a mountain of light, because that's not becoming of a girl. You keep it secret. You let it burn. You look into the eyes of other girls and see their fires flickering there, offer conspiratorial nods, never speak aloud a near-unbearable heat, a growing conflagration. You tend the flame because if you don't you're stuck, in the cold, on your own, doomed to 'seasonal layers', doomed to 'practicality', doomed to 'this is just the way things are', doomed to 'settling' and 'understanding' and 'reasoning' and 'agreeing' and 'seeing it another way' and 'seeing it his way' and 'seeing it from all the other ways but your own'.”

“You like games,' I tell him. 'How about we play one?' 'What's the wager?' 'If I win,' I say, 'You answer my question. Without evasion.' Nothing about the way he looks at me suggests that he does not consider these to be large stakes. Still, he nods. 'And what is the game?' 'You have the piece. Just as when we were children, let's see which of us throws better.' He nods again, taking it from his pocket. The peridot eyes glimmer. 'And if I win?' 'What do you want?' I ask. He studies me and I study him in return. No smile now can disguise the steel underneath. 'You promise to dance with me so that our practice back in the Court of Moths won't be for nothing.' 'Those are absurd stakes,' I tell him, my cheeks hot. 'And yet they are mine,' he says.”

“You like me?” He smiled wide and wild. “I fucking knew it.” “You all,” I finished, rolling my eyes heavenward. “I like all five of you.” I expelled a rapid breath, staring at the floor as I talked to the rug instead of them. “I like when Andel teaches me things. I like when Fjor’s power wraps around me. Worlds … I even like when Vidrol forgets that he isn’t surrounded by servants and starts ordering imaginary people to do things.” “My thing wasn’t personal.” Vidrol frowned, interrupting before I could finish. “Everyone else got a personal thing.” “I didn’t get anything”

“You like my forearms? No, not yours in particular. I mean, they're fine. Just, it's a sexy body part. I totally agree. I just didn't know girls liked them too. Oh, yes, Daniel. All girls like forearms. Every single one. No really, I've asked all of us and we all agree. We don't even agree about whether or not the long arm of the law should be able to reach into our vaginas, but we agree about forearms.”

“You like the Earth, Man, and you - pawing the ground - think of God, the little nursling will recognize you, and will think of you with love, because God lives even in it also. Give nourishment to the developing little creatures, either to plant or to animal, and it will develop for your sweet amazement. Give food for the wild animal starving, and it will slick to you.”