He'd fallen in love slowly and quietly, and it was a quiet sort of love, full of phrases left unsaid, laced… — Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Mortals have always been frightened of the night's velvet embrace and the creatures that walk in it, and yet they find themselves mesmerized by it.

"Words are seeds, Casiopea. With words you embroider narratives, and the narratives breed myths, and there's power in the myth. Yes, the things you name have power."

In her spare time, she looked to books or the stars for company.