Barbara Samuel

“Maybe not. But maybe that's how the world changes, Isaiah. One father, one child, at a time.”

“It's not being a woman I mind so much," she said slowly. "'Tis the way men seem to always order my life." She leaned earnestly toward him. "Your hand, Papa, has wielded a sword and cradled a child and held power over hundreds of men." She held up her own hand. "This one has far fewer adventures before it.”

“Seems to me people are mean or evil because they're scared, mostly, or in pain, or afraid they're going to lose something.”

“How could you carry the inside of a person with you and not call them a friend, no matter what the rules said?”