You can't just rattle it off like a demented parrot.

Things have a habit of working out, you know. Eventually.

There's no way the new chimney will fall down, Lu. Not with you in charge. It wouldn't dare.

He was not used to the smell of dragon breath, which is best described as a combination of the stench of burning rubber and the stink of old socks, with overtones of a hamster cage in dire need of a cleaning.

Been having a fight with your blankets, Septimus?" A familiar voice echoed down the chimney. "Looks like you lost," the voice continued with a chuckle. "Not wise to take on a pair of blankets, lad. One, maybe, but two blankets always gang up on you. Vicious things, blankets.

...yelling doesn't make a thing any more possible.

Oh dear," said Sarah anxiously, "I do wish he wouldn't do these silly things." I'm sure we all wish that, Sarah," said Marcia sternly. "But unfortunately he has progressed rather further than the silly stage. Evil-minded-scheming stage is more what I would call it.