Smell is the voice of the soul.

When the mountain quaked Like an elbow's nudge Like a shout that something is wrong The people awoke and Knew, yes, knew, that bandits had come

Razo was sorely tempted to assert that all was true and he'd lost his horns and tail in a tragic childhood accident

Throwing herself into learning helped Miri ignore the painful chill of solitude around her.

It was a pleasure, Enna, Finn, tree rat." "Did she just call you tree rat?

... and with my last thought I felt some real sympathy for those poor chickens.

She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.