Mr. Crossley suddenly wondered why he was why he was worrying about the note. It was only a joke, after all. He cleared his throat. Everyone looked up hopefully. 'Somebody,' said Mr. Crossley, 'seems to have sent me a Halloween message.' And he read out the note: 'SOMEONE IN THIS CLASS IS A WITCH.' 6B thought this was splendid news. Hands shot up all over the room like a bed of beansprouts. 'It's me, Mr. Crossley!' 'Mr. Crossley, I'm the witch!' 'Can I be the witch, Mr. Crossley?' 'Me, Mr. Crossley, me, me, me!

SAGE. A wise and Holy man who died a long time ago. No one modern qualifies.

If you must know, I-I had never in my life kissed a young lady, and you are far too beautiful to me to want to get it wrong!

All she heard next of the strange conversation behind the sofa was Mrs. Pendragon saying something about sending Twinkle (or was his name Howl?) to bed without supper and Twinkle daring her to 'jutht TRY it.

To love someone enough to let them go, you had to let them go forever or you did not love them that much.

I feel ill," [Howl] announced. "I'm going to bed, where I may die.

I could cut a star out of paper and drop it.