So you say, with your shiny hair and pouty lips - and those breasts - just wait till you start dropping whelps, they'll be at your ankles one day, big as they are - not the whelps, the breasts. The whelps will be in your hair - no, not the shiny hair on your head, well, yes, that hair, but only as a manner of speech.

It is an extraordinary act of courage,' said Tulas Shorn, 'to come to know a stranger's pain.

I warn you all, hatred is finding fertile soil within me. And in your compassion, in your every good intention, you nurture it.

Believe it or not, friendships are difficult to write in fiction. They can easily come across as forced, particularly if they involve too much explication and too many overt gestures of affection.

Chaos needs no allies, for it dwells like a poison in every one of us.

Ambition is not a dirty word. Piss on compromise. Go for the throat.

Ah, Fist, it’s the curse of history that those who should read them, never do.