“As with all dwellings,” she said, “of mortals and immortals both, it is the living that makes a house—not… — Tad Williams

“Do you get tired, singing?” she asked.

Gan Itai laughed quietly. “Does a mother grow tired raising her children? Of course, but it is what I do.”

She knew that life was but a long struggle against disorder, and that disorder was the inevitable winner.

He wanted a home desperately. He was close to the point where he would take a mattress in Hell if the Devil would lend him a pillow.