Tigana

by Guy Gavriel Kay

Memory was talisman and ward for him, gateway and hearth. It was pride and love, shelter from loss: for if something could be remembered it was not wholly lost.

There are no wrong turnings. Only paths we had not known we were meant to walk.

The process of sharing with words seemed such a futile exercise sometimes.

But it seemed that, sometimes, on some mornings completely unforeseen, Eanna could look down from among her lights in the sky, and smile, and something miraculous might be freely offered that would never have been sought.

Words were power, words tried to change you, to shape bridges of longing that no one could ever really cross.