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.

Tsornin's nostrils showed red, but his ears were as alert as ever, and occasionally he would rub his nose gently against the nape of her neck, just in case she was momentarily not thinking about him.

If you try to breathe water, you will not turn into a fish, you will drown; but water is still good to drink.

The great thing about fantasy is that you can drag dreams and longings and hopes and fears and strivings out of your subconscious and call them 'magic' or 'dragons' or 'faeries' and get to know them better. But then I write the stuff. Obviously I'm prejudiced.

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

If you wish, I shall go personally to your City and knock together the heads of Perlith and Galooney.

Your attitude is perhaps a little unnecessarily rigorous," suggested Jack.