A cloak of invisibility? This is a highly sensitive piece of field equipment. What does he think? Some warlock pulled it out of his armpit?

If things go badly for me tonight, I want you to stay with Mr. Wynter; he will pay you a decent wage.” “Will he make me bathe?” “No, he will debate the matter with you until you decide to wash.” “Ah. One of those.

Everyone says that I have no sense of humor, then I construct a perfectly sound pun around a well-known psychological condition, and it is ignored.

There is no such thing as a happy ending. Every culture has a maxim that makes this point, while nowhere in the Universe is there a single gravestone that reads 'He Loved Everything About His Life, Especially the Dying Bit at the End'.

Everything rests on the poisoned wine. If it were just the queen, I could force it down her gullet, but Declan Broekhart would run me through with that damned ceremonial sword, and if his wife's stares were daggers, he'd be dead already.

Now before we get into anything, ladies, no scratching, no spitting and no tattling to mummy.

Mulch's tongue lolled out, resting on the centaur's neck. "Mmm," he mumbled around his tongue. "Horse. Tasty" "Let's go," said Foaly nervously. "Let's go right now.