Nothing but dust and fundamentalists.

Or -- and this she knew was a far more accurate way of looking at it -- the book was true and reality was lying.

It was like being in a Jane Austen novel, but one with far less clothing.

What's the good of having mastery over cosmic balance and knowing the secrets of fate if you can't blow something up?

Mr Lipwig, there's a lady in the hall to see you and we've thanked her for not smoking three times and she's still doing it!

It's hard to be famous and alive.

Rings try to find their way back to their owner. Someone ought to write a book about it.