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?

It's only a story, isn't it?"... "Who's to say what's only a story and what's truth disguised as a story?

But there's a world beyond what we can see and touch, and that world lives by its own laws. What may be impossible in this very ordinary world is very possible there, and sometimes the boundaries between the two worlds disappear, and then who can say what is possible and impossible?

...it's as empty as a merchant's soul. Sorry, Kheldar, it's just an old expression." "That's all right, Beldin," Silk forgave him grandly. "These little slips of the tongue are common in the very elderly.

The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm. For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how high Garion rose in life, he never forgot that all his memories began in that kitchen.

If the general opinion is pessimistic, fantasy is going to hold its own.

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