It was quite impossible to describe. Here is what it looked like. It looked like a piano sounds shortly after being dropped down a well. It tasted yellow, and it felt Paisley. It smelled like the total eclipse of the moon.

Mr. Tulip lived his life on that thin line most people occupy just before they haul off and hit someone repeatedly with a wrench.

The world is a globe — the farther you sail, the closer to home you are.

After all, when you seek advice from someone it's certainly not because you want them to give it. You just want them to be there while you talk to yourself.

There has been a lot of bad fantasy in the past - I'm by no means saying that all classic fantasy out there is bad - but there has been a lot of bad fantasy written by people who read a lot of fantasy and so all they keep doing is recycling it.

We live and learn, or, perhaps more importantly we learn and live.

When in doubt, choose to live.