We're all unique, just never in the ways we imagine.

The happiest folk are those that are busy, for their minds are starved of time to seek out woe.

A twinge at the edge of her lips and she continued, the soft, slow lilt of recitation: "Ancient walls that sing the distant hours.

Ah, well. Life's too short for moderation, wouldn't you say?

I'd pretty much given up hope of being published, so I just wrote the book I wanted to read.

Oh, there was harm indeed for a young lady flattered by the brief attentions of a handsome man.

Nell was not one for friends and had never hidden her distaste for most other humans, their neurotic compulsion for the acquisition of allies.