It is these black clothes," said Strange. "I am like a leftover piece of funeral, condemned to walk about the Town, frightening people into thinking of their own mortality.

For, though the room was silent, the silence of half a hundred cats is a peculiar thing, like fifty individual silences all piled one on top of another.

I know magicians and I know magic and I say this: all magicians lie and this one more than most.

You mean to say he became mad deliberately?' ...Nothing is more likely,' said the duke.

He gave her his heart. She took it and placed it quietly in the pocket of her gown. No one observed what she did.

There is nothing else in magic but the wild thought of the bird as it casts itself into the void. There is no creature upon the earth with such potential for magic. Even the least of them may fly straight out of this world and come by chance to the Other Lands. Where does the wind come from that blows upon your face, that fans the pages of your book? Where the harum-scarum magic of small wild creatures meets the magic of Man, where the language of the wind and the rain and the trees can be understood, there we will find the Raven King.

This is a very grave matter, punishable by...well, I do not exactly know what, but something rather severe, I should imagine.