Oh God, Mae," said Jamie in a hollow voice, descending the stairs. "I will never drink again. I'm only seeing in black and white. My arms feel all floppy, like flightless wings. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like a very sad penguin.

Well, speaking as a feminist, I'm glad that women can lead--uh, groups of unspeakable magical evil." "Yes," Alan said gravely. "It'd be shoking if the evil magicians were sexist. For one thing, that would mean they were stupid, and having stupid enemies would be a terrible blow to my manly pride.

Words felt so clumsy when she was talking about feelings and not facts.

Wearing that? Wouldn't you fancy a shapeless cardigan instead? You rock a shapeless cardigan, honey.

Mae, he made me go out for a run," Jamie called out. "Tell him I don't run!" "Jamie and I are lilies of the field. We toil not, neither do we jog," Mae informed Nick.

Being able to depend on someone doesn't mean you're dependent on them.

Hark," he said, his tone very dry. "What stone through yonder window breaks?