He smiles but rarely and watches other men to see when they laugh and then does the same.

After two hours it stopped raining and in the same moment the spell broke, which Peroquet and the Admiral and Captain Jumeau knew by a curious twist of their senses, as if they had tasted a string quartet, or been, for a moment, deafened by the sight of colour blue.

Well, I suppose one ought not to employ a magician and then complain that he does not behave like other people.

All books are doors; and some of them are wardrobes.

The governess was not much liked in the village. She was too tall, too fond of books, too grave, and, a curious thing, never smiled unless there was something to smile at.

Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.

Can a magician kill a man by magic?” Lord Wellington asked Strange. Strange frowned. He seemed to dislike the question. “I suppose a magician might,” he admitted, “but a gentleman never would.