For each of us destiny is a blend of potential, circumstances, and choices.

My father once admonished me to master the laws that govern fine writing until I could weave my words into worlds. If ever I accomplish that feat, I will sign my name to the tale.

And you came back to Lyrian?" Galloran said in disbelief. "Believe it or not, I came through the same hippopotamus that brought me here the first time. Jumped into the tank on purpose. I wanted to keep others from wasting their time pursuing the Word. And I couldn't ditch Rachel." Galloran smiled. "Truly, you are possessed by that species of madness that begets heroism.

The curse of mortality. You spend the first portion of your life learning, growing stronger, more capable. And then, through no fault of your own, your body begins to fail. You regress. Strong limbs become feeble, keen senses grow dull, hardy constitutions deteriorate. Beauty withers. Organs quit. You remember yourself in your prime, and wonder where that person went. As your wisdom and experience are peaking, your traitorous body becomes a prison.

Jason decided not to add that the best way to get him to focus on something was to tell him not to think about it.

The surprise is on the far side." "You're sure?" "Positive." "It better not be another fairy," Seth said. "What's the matter with fairies?" "I've already seen about a billion of them and also they turned me into a walrus.

I'll not have my grandson subjected to the humiliation of his reading becoming public. We have to cope with this disgrace discreetly -- Grandma Ruth