Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend." "Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children.

Cold walls do not a prison make, nor iron bands a bondsman.

The only constant in the soul of man is inconstancy; anything and everything else can pass out of fashion-even something as utilitarian as a hill stuffed full of corpses.

I suspect this is all gonna end in screaming and drowning

Enlightenment! When it comes, it comes like a brick to the head, doesn't it?

Stand aside, and try not to catch fire if I shed sparks of genius.

To us — richer and cleverer than everyone else!