Lirael (Abhorsen, #2)

by Garth Nix

Remember that while the Clayr can See the future, others make it. I feel that you will be a maker, not a seer. You must promise me that it will be so. Promise me that you will not give in. Promise me that you will never give up hope. Make your future, Lirael!”

“I am the Disreputable Dog. Or Disreputable Bitch, if you want to get technical. When are we going for a walk?”

“At the stroke of midnight, when all such adventures should begin,

Be assured that any hurt to your spirit will pass in time. It is the nature of Death to take, but the nature of Life to give.

“Choosers will be beggars if the begging’s not their choosing,”

“Not by my mother’s standards,” replied Sam. Weather magic was mostly performed with whistled Charter marks, and he was no great whistler. “But I can probably raise a wind.” “This is not a brilliant plan, even by your mother’s standards,” commented Mogget,

“Fine!” muttered Mogget. “Wet, cold, and full of holes. Another fun day on the river.”

“I don’t suppose I could trouble you to take off my collar so I can get properly dry?” Lirael shook her head. “Well, I suppose if the village idiot here wouldn’t do it, there was no chance you would,” grumbled Mogget, inclining his head at Sameth.

I’d rather be afraid and do something than just sit and wait for terrible things to happen.”