Murphy is a writer's best friend, but you have to keep an eye on him, or he'll steal the silver.

No matter how good you are at sneaking, you can't ever sneak well enough so that mosquitoes won't find you, and no matter how worried and tense you are, or how hard you are trying to pay attention, you just can't help noticing when a cloud of mosquitoes comes for you like you're their first good meal since last fall.

Out here, it's better safe than sorry, because generally speaking, too much of the time sorry means you're dead.

Mendanbar took a deep breath. You could stay here. At the castle, I mean. With me. This wasn't coming out at all the way he had wanted it to, but it was too late to stop now. He hurried on, As Queen of the Enchanted Forest, if you think you would like that. I would.

The efficiency of the cleaning solution in liquefying wizards suggested the operation of an antithetical principal,which-" "Did you have to get him started?" Cimorene asked reproachfully.

Well,” said the frog, “what are you going to do about it?” “Marrying Therandil? I don’t know. I’ve tried talking to my parents, but they won’t listen, and neither will Therandil.” “I didn’t ask what you’d said about it,” the frog snapped. “I asked what you’re going to do. Nine times out of ten, talking is a way of avoiding doing things.

He wasn't a medical doctor, just educated all the way up as far as you can get.