I like all my characters in one way or another, or at least I understand them.

I wished that, for once, faery tales – real faery tales, not Disney fairy tales – would have a happy ending.

It's not the physical scars that are the most painful.

I guess the sacrifice of my dignity is the only thing that will save us now. The things I endure for love. The Fates laugh at my torment.

Eventually we will all wither and die in the wasteland of logic and science.

Me? Robin Goodfellow, a family man? He, not likely, ice-boy. I mean, think of what that would do to my reputation. Glamour shimmered around him, and he gave us a wink. Later, lovebirds. Gimme a heads up when the kid arrives. 'Uncle Puck' will be waiting.

Fear was the knowledge of pain, the awareness that you could be hurt, that you could die.