"It would be," and at the words both rue and amusement grow more obvious. "All I've got to excuse myself is that it seemed like a very good idea at the time.

"You wouldn't have any use for a basket of fresh marrows, would you?" The better part of them are bound for the orphanage and the slums, but given the terrifying number of them he'd grown, he can afford to be generous...

"Sensible enough. The Maker is He who existed before there were words for heaven or earth, sea or sky; before the Fade, or spirits, or men. He spoke the first Word, 'and His Word,'" here Myr's voice takes on a metered quality, like he's reciting poetry, "'became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities.'"