Farid Had Brought An Invisible Guest With

Fire And Water," He Said, "don't Really Mix. You Could Say They're Incompatible. But When They Do Love Each Other, They Love Passionately.

Books Have To Be Heavy Because The Whole World's Inside Them.

And There Stood Basta With His Foot Already On Another Dead Body, Smiling. Why Not? He Had Hit His Target, And It Was The Target He Had Been Aiming For All Along: Dustfinger’s Heart, His Stupid Heart. It Broke In Two As He Held Farid In His Arms, It Simply Broke In Two, Although He Had Taken Such Good Care Of It All These Years.

She Always Did Like Tales Of Adventure-stories Full Of Brightness And Darkness. She Could Tell You The Names Of All King Arthur's Knights, And She Knew Everything About Beowulf And Grendel, The Ancient Gods And The Not-quite-so-ancient Heroes. She Liked Pirate Stories, Too, But Most Of All She Loved Books That Had At Least A Knight Or A Dragon Or A Fairy In Them. She Was Always On The Dragon's Side By The Way.

Why Did Death Make Life Taste So Much Sweeter? Why Could The Heart Love Only What It Could Also Lose?