"Richard leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 'I know what it's like to feel regret for how you were born, for what you have, or don't have. I hated being born the way I was - with the gift. But I came to realize how senseless such feelings are, how completely wrong it was to think that way.' 'But it's different with me,' Jennsen said as she pushed at the sand with a finger, erasing the little ruts she'd made with the pebble/ 'There are others like you - wizards or sorceresses with the gift. Everyone else can at least see colors, as you put it. I'm the only one like this.' Richard gazed at his half sister, a beautiful, bright, un-gifted half sister that any previous Lord Rahl would have murdered on the spot, and was overcome with a radiant smile. 'Jennsen, I think of you as born pure. You're like a new snowflake, different than any other, and startlingly beautiful.'"