Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face.

Daddy will explain. Come, he is blowing up monsters.

people can be creul,people can be mean, what they say about us is not true it makes it there opinion, and it doesnt mean thats how the rest of the world see's it.

I figure the world is basically a machine. I don't know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or the capital-G god or whatever. But it chugs along the way it's supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break off and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly... things happen for a reason.

Then something occurred to me. "Get closer," I told Blackjack. He whinnied in protest. "Just within shouting distance," I said. "I need to talk to the statue." Now I'm sure you've lost it, boss, Blackjack said

Powdered donuts," Tyson said earnestly. "I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness." He headed outside and started calling, "Here, donuts!

Hello George. Hey Martha (Percy) Did you bring us a rat? (George) George, stop it!He's busy! (Martha) Too busy for rats? That's just sad. (George)