The spoken word is nothing. It hardly lives longer than an insect! Only the written word is eternal. - Balbulus

Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured. Meggie looked at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn’t particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. ‘What’s so unusual about that, princess?’ he asked quietly. ‘Do you know how your story ends?’ Meggie had no answer for that.

What a plague love is!

Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.

You know what they say: When people start burning books they'll soon burn human beings.

I like a composer called Henry Purcell, and I love to listen to Neil Young.

Every German child learns to speak English in school.