What?" she asked again. He pointed ahead of them. "See that?" "What, the snow?" "Beyond that." "More snow?" "Stop looking at the snow.

Other stories tell how I eat innocent newborns, how I’m ten feet tall, how I breathe fire and have great dragon wings. None of these are wholly accurate. I don’t have dragon wings, I don’t breathe fire, I’m only eight feet tall and I’ve never eaten a newborn that didn’t have it coming. My name is Mevolent. What’s yours?

Mum said earlier what a lovely dress you’re wearing.” Beryl’s eyebrows wriggled like two tiny tapeworms. “This?” she said. “But I’ve had this for years.” It was a beige dress that would have looked better on an eighty year-old. Any eighty-year-old, man or woman. “I think you’ve really grown into it,” Valkyrie said. “I always thought it was a little shapeless.” Valkyrie resisted the urge to say that was what she meant.

It's a very small object to be capable of doing many wonderful things, don't you think?" "It does much more that that," Valkyrie said, opening up a game and showing it to him. His eyes widened. "What wonder is this?" "It's called Angry Birds. Now do you believe me?

Oh, escape is easy once you have the right plan.' 'Do we have the right plan?' 'Not yet.' 'Do we have any plan?' 'Not yet.

The end is now the beginning.

That's ridiculous. The only point in having enemies is so you can defeat them, kill them, brush them aside." "Or give them a chance to redeem themselves.