Torn Between The Impulse To Stroke His

Deftly Whipping A Small Tuning Fork From His Pocket, He Struck It Smartly Against A Pillar And Held It Next To Jamie's Left Ear. Jamie Rolled His Eyes Heavenward, But Shrugged And Obligingly Sang A Note. The Little Man Jerked Back As Though He'd Been Shot.

Character, I Think, Is The Single Most Important Thing In Fiction. You Might Read A Book Once For Its Interesting Plot—but Not Twice.

...sitting And Waiting Is One Of The Most Miserable Occupations Known To Man - Not That It Usually Is Known To Men; Women Do It Much More Often.

No Wonder He Was So Good With Horses, I Thought Blearily, Feeling His Fingers Rubbing Gently Behind My Ears, Listening To The Soothing, Incomprehensible Speech. If I Were A Horse, I’d Let Him Ride Me Anywhere.

Ye Are Blood Of My Blood, And Bone Of My Bone, I Give Ye My Body, That We Two Might Be One. I Give Ye My Spirit, 'til Our Life Shall Be Done.