If I fret over tomorrow, I'll have little joy today.

I can't make sense out of that girl," he said to the bard, "Can you?" "Never mind," Fflewddur said, "We aren't really expected to.

King Constantine IX of Regia had been killed three times and was bored with it. He wanted a bath.

For Wayfarers still journeying, for Wanderers at rest.

Evil cannot be conquered by wishing.

By all means," cried the bard, his eyes lighting up. "A Fflam to the rescue! Storm the castle! Carry it by assault! Batter down the gates!" "There's not much of it left to storm," said Eilonwy. "Oh?" said Fflewddur, with disappointment. "Very well, we shall do the best we can.

After seven years of writing - and working many jobs to support my family - I finally got published.