Empty words show an empty mind, and silence speaks most eloquently of all.

Large men in black plate mail with red cloaks and plumes don't sneak worth a damn.

The world tilted slightly sideways. 'I think I need to sit down.' The floor seemed like the best option. It was close and he'd already proved that he could hit it. His legs folded.

Violence is never the answer but sometimes, like with cockroaches, it is the only possible response.

Bards were terrible at keeping secrets. They insisted on putting them to music.

Dexter thrust a pamphlet into Samuel's hand. "Greenstreet Mission. We're doing a Christmas dinner. You can get a meal and hear the word of God." Samuel smiled in relief. This, finally, he understood. "Which word?" "What?" "Well, God's said a lot of words, you know, and a word like 'it' or 'the' wouldn't be worth hearing again but its always fun listening to Him try and say aluminum.

What do they do for a village idiot when you're here?