All of us recruits are equal in the eyes of the Army: low as you can go.

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?

But we survived, didn’t we? That makes it an adventure. If you get killed it’s a tragedy.

Choosers will be beggars if the begging's not their choosing.

I think I've actually benefited from Australia being a kind of combination of both British and American culture. We kind of got the best of both British and American television and books, science fiction and fantasy, and so on. So I'm familiar with a lot of, for example, American books and television that a British author of my generation might not be.

Blood trickled down his chin as he was hauled up onto his knees, the golden rope securing his arms behind him and his ankles together. Arthur looked up and saw the fizzing sparkling crown coming down. I’m Arthur Penhaligon, he thought desperately... The crown was wedged tightly upon his head- and Arthur fell silently screaming into darkness.

The visions are fragmented and a dark cloud spreads like spilt ink across the pages of possible futures.