I fell, you see. Trod on my abbot, Father Habit. Oh, dear! I mean.

In our imaginations we can go anywhere. Travel with me to Redwall in Mossflower country.

Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!

Who knows, my friend? Maybe the sword does have some magic. Personally, I think it's the warrior who wields it.

The advice I continually give to young writers is this, "Learn to paint pictures with words." Not just once upon a time, but ... In the long secret dust of ages, beneath a blue forgotten sky, where trade winds caress the sun bleached shores of unknown realms ... See, as much as there are words in poetry, there is a poetry in words. Use it, stay faithful to the path you have set your heart upon and follow it.

Step aside? I step aside for nobeast, whether it be a hallowed hedgehog, an officious otter, a seasoned squirrel, a mutterin' mole or a befuddled badger!

I will not stand here to be insulted by you, hedgepig," Mangiz fumed. "Then stand somewhere else and I'll insult you there, featherbag!!