"“I was afraid you wouldn’t take me seriously.” “I did. But I am preparing,” the duke said, “to revise that opinion. Stop playing and tell me what you want.” “And you’ll give it to me?” “What do you think? If it’s reasonable, I’ll consider it. If it’s not, I have the resources to annoy you very much as you’ve been annoying me. It’s true I have more scruples—but I’m willing to suspend them. I also have more money, you see—lots more money. I wasn’t planning to waste any of it on you, but I could be convinced to change my mind.”"
Ellen Kushner is an American editor and writer of fantasy fiction. From 1996 until 2010, she was the host of the radio program Sound and Spirit, produced by WGBH in Boston and distributed by Public Radio International.
"I’m the Duke of Riverside. I build things here and pretty much keep the peace, and discourage certain behaviors. If you think all that has been achieved through entirely civil and lawful means, you’ve had your head in a bucket."
"“The trouble with you,” the Ugly Girl said, “is that you think you know just what everyone should do, don’t you?” The Mad Duke smiled at her. His face was bright and sharp, smooth and glittering. “Yes,” he said, “I do.” “And what,” she said, “if you’re wrong?” “And what,” he said, “if I’m not?”"
"“Abjuring love? Real people don’t do that. Now you’re the one who sounds like someone on a stage. That’s not the real world. Real people follow their hearts, wherever it takes them. Real people refuse to be put into a little tiny box. You can say you love me or you don’t love me, it doesn’t matter; I know you have foresworn nothing except an existence you found intolerable.” She really did smile this time. “Now you’re making me sound like a heroine. Be honest, Lucius. For all that you go on about the real world with its real people, you don’t really want to live in it, either.”"
"Is this politics? I suppose I am going to have to learn all about it, if I am to run Lord Ferris’s household, and throw parties and all. Now...explain to me again just who hates who, and why?"
"“In real life, my sweet poet,” the duke said as the swordsmen circled, “words can never be undone.”"
"“I thought I would be safe here.” “You are.” For the first time, he touched her, touched her hand. “Safe from everything but paper and ink. Please. Put those down.” “Paper and ink.” She clutched the books to her ample chest. “They’re not nothing, Alec. They’re pretty much everything to me: the embodiment of ideas, of thought—of free and open thought. Of inquiry and supposition. All of it.”"