Don't die on me," she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. "It's only a little shoulder wound. Goddess, George-don't die on me." His eyes flickered open and he smiled. "I didn't know you cared," he whispered. "And why insult me? I won't die for a wee nick like this; I've had worse in my day." Alanna wiped her wet cheeks. "Of course I care, you unprincipled pickpocket!" she whispered. "Of course I care.

You're an obnoxious canker-blossom. Go ooze somewhere else.

I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil.

I forgot my purse of laughter when I dressed this mornin'," she told me. "Have you not bought anythin' the last few days? Prices have gone up. Pay or starve, it's all one to me.

Why does he speak of them that way?" The crow-man wanted to know. "They are humans, just like he is." "I don't think he sees them as just like him." Ally explained. "He is foolish then," said Nawat. "There are more raka than Bronaus.

I don't write from dreams because I don't remember mine, but I had a fragment of an image left about twins, whose father was telling them how their lives were going to go for the next eight years. I wrote a scene about that, and then another and then another and then another, and after five months I had 732 pages.

I swear the sparrows called us ten kinds of idiot when we did it.