A Tartar's heart is a quarter poetry, a quarter fire, a quarter wind of heaven, and a quarter the terror of his enemies.

The gallantry was the women's. ... The woman's chivalry in such circumstances is obviously expected.

In steppe epic, a steed and a sister are your trustiest, most intelligent and indefatigable aid: the hero doesn't have to be heroic, but these do.

It feels like all we ever do in this world is break each others’ hearts.

It was the kiss by which all the others of his life would be judged and found wanting.

But Tom was not thinking about magic or struggle or the rest of his journey.

He was enjoying the game and the bright sun, and his heart was a child's heart.

But then, all grownup's hearts are children's hearts inside, if you can only find the catch that opens them.