I'm a storyteller, not a prophet. I'm just interested in a good story.

I must admit that I haven't heard of the Duchess of Erat before." "You're a fortunate man," Wolf said. "She's a great beauty," the man said admiringly. "And has a temper to match," Wolf told him. "I noticed that," the guard said. "We noticed you noticing," Silk told him slyly.

Who owns a man, Durnik?” the blond young man asked sadly. “The one who rules him, or the one who pays him?

I'd really like to go with you, Agachak. Truly I would...but I just can't." "I don't understand. Why not?" "I'm not allowed to leave home. My mother'd punish me something awful if I did..." "But you're the king." "That doesn't change a thing. I still do what mother says. She tells everybody that I'm the best boy ever when it comes to that." Agachak resisted a powerful urge to change this half-wit into a toad or perhaps a jellyfish.

All social workers want is to get everyone involved in a programme. Because a programme provides full employment for three generations of social workers. And they mess up.

It's gaudy, ugly, and in terribly bad taste. It does, however, suit my personality almost perfectly.

It's all very well to put the government in the hands of the perfect man, but what do you do when the perfect man gets a bellyache?