Lir chiseled at the stone. It would take a month to make a perceptible impression on it. He had a few hours. Work harder, then. - Tanith Lee

Of the rest, nothing further is said, save that lovers love and live and, in due season, as all men must, they also die. And so with Ezail and Chavir who had been Sovaz and Oloru, Azhriaz and Chuz. For such was and is mortal life, mortal death. But for love, who can predict or measure, plot, ascribe, or declare an end. Love is one of the immortals.

Odd, how different different men’s fears could be.

In the land of my childhood there was a saying, as follows: 'The black rose does not anywhere grow. Therefore let us fondly believe in the blooming of the black rose.'"
"Where I shall feast presently,"said Azhrarn, "black roses are woven in the garlands. Enlighten them therefore in your childhood's land: The black rose blooms. No longer believe in the black rose."
"Zhoreb—what shall we do?"
"There is nothing to be done. Demons exist." And then Zhoreb smiled and added under his breath, "Therefore we need not believe in them.