Quotes by : Rachel Neumeier

It is poor solace to speak of the passing of time and grief," the master said. His quiet voice had gone....

Fire will run like poetry through your blood.

The desert at night was black and a strange madder-tinted silver; the sky was black, and the great contorted....

A king who is renowned for mercy," said the Arobern, with heavy irony, "must also be renowned in equal....