The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don't look like much of a minstrel, and you're— pardon me for saying so lad, but it's true— ordinary as cheese crumbs. So it's love if you ask me.

If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.

The only advice I can give you is what you're telling yourself. Only, maybe you're too scared to listen.

Sister Mary chose that moment to come in with the tea. Satanist or not, she'd also found a plate and arranged some iced biscuits on it.

Children, as I have said, use back ways and hidden paths, while adults take roads and official paths.

What should I believe? thought Shadow, and the voice came back to him from somewhere deep beneath the world, in a bass rumble: Believe everything.

So many things to see, people to do.