Hannah

“You’re free to dream however you wish,” Nollin teased. “But don’t ask the rest of us to share your unrealistic—”
“Then don’t ask us to share your weakness!” Jason interrupted.”
― Brandon Mull, Chasing the Prophecy

“Faith isn't knowledge, Rachel. Faith is a tool. Faith keeps us going until we get the knowledge. Faith keeps us striving until we reach the consequences of our most important decisions.”
― Brandon Mull, Chasing the Prophecy

“Chuckling, Jason picked up the bucket of explosives.
Rachel felt the moment slipping away. There was so much she wanted to say. What if something happened to him? What if she never told him how much she appreciated his coming back to Lyrian for her? How much she cared about him? There were too many feelings to translate into words. "See you later," she managed.
"Not if I see you first," Jason said, starting toward the main doors of the temple.
She watched him walking away. Were those the last words he would say to her? She stalked after him. "You can't leave with a joke."
He glanced back. "Why not?"
"What if I die?"
"Then at least I cheered you up before the end."
"That wasn't a cheerful joke. It was a teasing joke. And not even a very good one."
"Fine. Why did the baby cross the road?"
"No jokes," Rachel complained, striding alongside him.
"I guess it's more fitting that we should end with an argument."
"I just mean there are certain times when jokes aren't appropriate."
"Which makes them more needed and funny.”
― Brandon Mull, Chasing the Prophecy

“Rolling flat onto his back, Drake shuddered. Then he inhaled deeply. He stared up at the night sky. "We're going to win," he said, his voice calmer, less strained. "This is nothing. Keep going. They can't stop us. Jason, give Rachel the necklace. Tell her . . . tell her I'm sorry. Tell her . . . I wanted . . . to show her . . . my little valley. Tell her I tried."
His voice was growing weak. Farfalee smoothed a hand over his brow. "Shhh," she whispered. "Be still, Drake. You can rest now. You did it. Rest. We'll take it from here."
"Failie," he whispered, his hand twitching toward the back of his neck with little jerks. "Where's my seed?" His head tipped sideways. The breath went out of him.”
― Brandon Mull, Chasing the Prophecy