“Perhaps the man wasn’t so mad after all. Or maybe it’s a madness that I can learn to appreciate.” — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“She believed in Him; she always had. To think He didn’t exist . . . she’d be a shell empty of its nut. God… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“Mad Olia had a lot to say, and most of it was nonsensical, if it could be understood at all. Like bad poetry spoken… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“Faith is a very personal thing, really. Just because you don’t meet with a group of people once a week who believe everything exactly… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“Condemned by your people. Opened the second. Condemned by yourself. Opened the third. To see who you were. Opened the fourth. To see who… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“Six days. The man had been gone six days, and that was all he had to say about it?” — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
“I think life would be much . . . simpler . . . if a man could believe in one solid thing,” he answered, still not looking at her. “Bits and pieces here and there do no good for a man’s soul. Thinking all of it is right or all of it is wrong does no good, either. Just as a magician cannot work… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share
“I’d say, Ceony,” he said after swallowing, “had I not been present for the lessons, I’d think you’d found a way to enchant pasta.” Ceony smiled. “You like it?” He nodded, scooping up another bite. “It tastes just as good as it smells. That’s a sign of a well-rounded person. I should congratulate you.” “On my person or my pasta?”… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share
“Before she went to bed, she loaded her Tatham percussion-lock pistol and added its weight to her bounty of spells. One didn’t always need… — Charlie N. Holmberg Copy Share Image
