People forgot; it was in the nature of people to forget, to blur boundaries, to retell stories to come out the way they wanted them to come out, to remember things as how they ought to be instead of how they were.

One keeps searching for ease, she did not say, and not finding it, till the memories of no-pain seem only like daydreams.

Those single-track military minds never think to ask their cleaning staff for help in giant lethal marauding creature matters.

I love you. I will love you till the stars crumble, which is a less idle threat than is usual to lovers on parting.

I get a little cranky with the whole business about kids not having attention spans. This reminds me of the usual business of thinking that the next generation is hopeless. Every generation has said that about every younger generation.

But it was equally clear to her that this was her fate, that she had called its name and it had come to her, and she could do nothing now but own it.

the bus timetable sites are all run by an inbred cabal of malicious gnomes. Who don’t speak English. And who don’t count very well either. Or tell time. And they certainly can’t read maps.