Do not lose your heart to a faery prince. It never ends well.

I get up, get coffee, and go into my home office. I check email and Twitter before I start work, but I have to try not to get too distracted.

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.

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

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.

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

As cities grow and technology takes over the world, belief and imagination fade away, and so do we.