Pardon me, Highness, a women waits whithout." "Whithout what?

A dozen more questions occurred to me. Not to mention twenty-two possible solutions to each one, sixteen resulting hypotheses and counter-theorems, eight abstract speculations, a quadrilateral equation, two axioms, and a limerick. That's raw intelligence for you.

Despite his crimped shirts and flowing mane (or perhaps because of them) I had seen no evidence as yet that Nathaniel even knew what a girl was. If he'd ever met one, chances are they'd both have run screaming in opposite directions.

The mercenary finished his coffee in a single gulp, It must have been piping hot, too. Boy, he was tough.

He was a worried man (I'm stretching the term a bit here, I know. By now, in his mid to late teens, he might just about have passed for a man. When seen from behind. At a distance. On a very dark night).

Her clarity gave her purpose and her purpose gave her clarity.

Besides, if you're going to die horribly, you might as well do it with style.