If they projected the fact that they are dangerous any harder, there would be little puddles of "danger" on the floor around them. Look, it's "danger", don't step in it!

Adventure, yeah. I guess that's what you call it when everybody comes back alive.

It's hard being a rock; they have such a strange sense of time - and priorities.

It makes sense for people who are good at fighting to go out and do it-because if they're good at it, that means the fewest number of other people die.

Honor was never taking the easy way when it was also the wrong one. Never telling a falsehood unless the truth was painful and unnecessary, or a lie was necessary to save others. Never manipulating the truth to serve only yourself. Protecting the weak and helpless; standing fast even when fear made you weak. Keeping your word.

A book's alright when the weather's foul and there's nothing else to do, but why sit and read when the wind is calling your name?

In a dog's world, only three states existed: "now," "in a while," and "forever." If someone left, he was gone "forever," and when he returned they rejoiced as much as if he were back from the dead precisely because he'd been gone "forever.