It’s legend now, but legend is the smoke from the fire, and the wood that the fire consumes is the substance. - Tanith Lee

“What else is she like?”
The Eshva sighed at the touch of Azhrarn’s fingers. The sigh said this: Like a white moth at dusk, a night-blooming lily. Like music played by the reflection of a swan as it passes over the strings of a moonlit lake.

I had not yet learned the lesson that when you are forever telling yourself that such and such is worth the price, then the price is too high and has been paid too often.

Spells are words, and words are merely noises. You are the sorceress, not your instruction. Don’t limit yourself.