There is a sad disconnectedness that overcomes a library when its owner is gone.

If you can't do what you want, do what you can.

Mia Maz glanced aside in concern at his muffled snort. "Are you all right?" "Yes. Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just having an attack of limericks." Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip; only her deepening dimple betrayed her. "Shhh," she said, with feeling.

The will to be stupid is a very powerful force, but there are always alternatives.

Don't wish to be normal. Wish to be yourself. To the hilt. Find out what you're best at, and develop it, and hopscotch your weaknesses. Wish to be great at whatever you are.

The gods' most savage curses come upon us as answers to our own prayers. Prayer is a dangerous business.

The Imperial Service could win a war without coffee, but would prefer not to have to.