So,” Marasi said, “you traded a dead man’s scarf for another dead man’s gun. But…the gun itself belonged to someone dead, so by the same logic—” “Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.

To age truly was to suffer the ultimate treason, that of one's body against oneself.

What is belief - what is faith - if you don't continue it after failure?

Galladon paused for a moment, then laughed. "Does nothing frighten you, sule?" "Actually, pretty much everything here does—I'm just good at ignoring the fact that I'm terrified. If I ever realize how scared I am, you'll probably find me trying to hide under those cobblestones over there.

I love to do what I do. So, I do work long hours.

Getting cut off from the knights' magic rock also required a period of exile from their giant glass mushroom. (Those of you in the Hushlands, I dare you to work that last sentence into a conversation. "By the way, Sally, did you know that getting cut from the knight's magic rock also requires a period of exile from their giant glass mushroom?")

I was thinking that work is like fertilizer in that I'm glad it exists; I just don't ever want to get stuck in it.