His eyes gravitated towards the wall-to-wall bookshelf at one end of the room. 'You folks like books, I see.

You're drinking in the joy of life,' Bear told her when she tried to explain why she was laughing. 'There's so much opportunity for drinking deeply of it, and we very rarely do it. When you do, it makes you feel alive all over.

It was Night. In most places, Night is a time for sleep, for calm, and for mystery. But not in New York City, where many things conspired every evening to murder the night.

Oh, but a real princess would know that hard work ennobles the soul,' Rose objected. 'That would be one of the signs.

The boys at school are so degenerate that it makes one feel pessimistic about the future of the male gender in general.

Bear heard Rose in the background saying, 'Why thank you, Mr. Fish.' 'Good redhead. Helpful redhead,' Fish returned.

Some scars never heal. And he sounds like he has a lot of them.' 'But Christ had scars too, even on His risen Body. Wounds in this life become glory in the next.