He who cannot endure the bad will not live to see the good.

But his words fall away. He looks confused. He looks flustered and sorry. Like you do when you run up to someone you think you know and take her arm and she turns around and you were wrong.

I just love historical fiction.

I will go out again this very night with my rockets and fuses. I will blow them straight out of their comfortable beds. Blow the rooftops off their houses. Blow the black, wretched night to bits. I will not stop. For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.

Be careful what you show the world. You never know when the wolf is watching.

A new word. Bright with possibilities. A flawless pearl to turn over and over in my hand, then put away for safekeeping.

Meet me where the sky touches the sea. Wait for me where the world begins.