What was it that drew you back? My marvellous personality, I suppose? Or my sparkling conversation?

Burned and squashed to death in a silver vat of soup. There must be worst ways to go. But not many.

I rather think he knew anyway.

Jabor finally appeared at the top of the stairs, sparks of flame radiating from his body and igniting the fabric of the house around him. He caught sight of the boy, reached out his hand and stepped forward. And banged his head nicely on the low-slung attic door.

I wanted to wake you straightaway, but I knew I had to wait several hours to ensure you were safely recovered." "What! How long has it been?" "Five minutes. I got bored.

Can you define "plan" as "a loose sequence of manifestly inadequate observations and conjectures, held together by panic, indecision, and ignorance"? If so, it was a very good plan.

Freedom is an illusion. It always comes at a price.