When I am old I shall wear midnight.

His sister had been sent down to the village to ask Mistress Garlick the witch how you stopped spelling recommendation.

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

The Chain Letter to the Ephebians. Forget Your Gods. Be Subjugated. Learn to Fear. Do not break the chain -- the last people who did woke up one morning to find fifty thousand armed men on their lawn.

You had to hand it to the Patrician, he admitted grudgingly. If you didn't, he sent men to come and take it away.

Who'd want a pony when you could have the whole universe? It was far more interesting and you didn't have to muck it out once a week.

People who are rather more than six feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders often have uneventful journeys. People jump out at them from behind rocks then say things like, "Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone else.