You could give us a hand instead of staring into space like a constipated camel," Terry Tarsal rudley broke into Marcia's spinning thoughts.

the chocolate raisins tasted somewhat fishy, but Lucy didn't care-chocolate was chocolate. She changed her mind however, when she realized that the raisins were tiny fish heads.

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

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

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.

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

Beauty Lures the Stranger More Easily into Danger -Septimus Heap