Warning: If you are insufferable, do not walk here. We shall eat you down to the marrow.

"Promise. Don't misunderstand me-you are quite vexing." He touches his tender jaw. "And you hit like a man. But you didn't cause his illness. That is his doing."

They misspelled 'party.' How evil genius can they be?

It occurs to me that cricket is not the true sport in London - gossip is.

She knew what it was to wait for someone who would never come home. She knew that grief, like a scar, faded but never really went away.

Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.

It's so laughable that it's somewhere beyond comedy and right into tragedy again.