What are you doing?" "Looking for my fangs." "We don't grow fangs you idiot!

Leave him alone!" Debbie shouted. "Shut up, please, or I'll kill you," Mr Tiny replied.

He says every story has at least some truth in it, even if most are made up.

I gulped, then stepped over the threshold into the house where I'd lived as a boy. After eighteen long years of wandering, I had finally come home.

I'd like to do something to help the worst afflicted, but I can't. It's not possible to save everybody. Even heroes have their all-too-human limits.

Underneath me, Sam Grest - who'd been my friend and saved my life - lay perfectly still and slipped further and further into the final sleep of an unfair and horrible death.

Yes?" she asked, eyeing me guardedly. I struck out a hand and said "Shake." Arra stared at the hand, then into my unfocused eyes. "One good fight doesn't make you a warrior," she said. "Shake!" I repeated angrily. "And if I don't?" she asked. "I'll get back up on the bars and fight you till you do," I growled. Arra studied me at length, then nodded and took my hand. "Power to you, Darren Shan," she said gruffly. "Power," I repeated weakly, then fainted into her arms and knew no more till I came to in my hammock the next night.