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.

You mean he thinks I'm going to get MORE offers?" Kim said, appalled. "He doesn't seem to be the only one that thinks so." Mairelon said. "Aunt Agatha mentioned it to me yesterday afternoon. Is there anyone, or would you rather I turn the lot of them away?" Kim shook her head. "There isn't anyone." Except you.

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.

One of the things everybody seems to want to ask writers is, "Where do you get your ideas?" When people ask me this, my usual response is, "Ideas are the easy part. The hard part is writing them down."

Sometimes I couldn't help thinking that the unluckiest thing about being the thirteenth child was having all those older brothers and sisters telling me what to do.

In short, if we wish to see anything sensible done about the situation, we will clearly have to do it ourselves.

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.