I hated myself, but I also loved myself in a hateful way.

I don't mean to be ungrateful but if someone's out there answering prayers, mine's not at the top of the list

Our English monarchs are so unimaginative,” said Eldric. “They execute people in such tediously conventional ways.

I like rain and mist. I've never understood why people exclaim over bright skies and bushels of glaring sunshine.

Now that’s true poetic irony. I rush into battle to defend the fair name of Rose Larkin, and what does she do but fetch Robert to stop me.

That’s where proper stories begin, don’t they, when the handsome stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?

Life and stories are alike in one way: They are full of hollows. The king and queen have no children: They have a child hollow. The girl has a wicked stepmother: She has a mother hollow. In a story, a baby comes along to fill the child hollow. But in life, the hollows continue empty.