A surfeit of information often hides an untruth,โ he said, with annoying clarity.
There is a certain degree of steampunkishness that creeps into my books.
Love and magic are like oil and water--they just don't mix.
Take no heed of her.... She reads a lot of books.
Apart from the faint odor of ink that pervaded the scene, it might have been real.
I've managed to bring the backlog down to a mere sixty-eight years," she announced with some small sense of achievement. "I hope to be able to start marking the papers of pupils who are still alive by the end of the decade.