“Stop moping, sule," galladon said with a grunt."It doesn't suit you-it takes a fine sense of pessimism to brood with any sort of respectability.”

“Galladon paused for a moment, then laughed. "Does nothing frighten you, sule?""Actually, pretty much everything here does—I'm just good at ignoring the fact that I'm terrified. If I ever realize how scared I am, you'll probably find me trying to hide under those cobblestones over there.”

“Darling stop being philosophical it doesn't suit you, it makes your nose red.”

“Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said.“This was a Fiona Fine original.”

“I don't think my moped could outrun a cheetah.""Hun," Claire says. "There are more important things you need to outrun, and a moped isn't going to help you with any of those.”

“There existed very long saxophones from years ago. The player sat on their chair like a cellist; that same sort of feeling to it as well - unlike for example the way a harpist would be: the whole act differing in a very fundamental sense. Although harpists are fine. There is nothing to be said against harpists by any means whatsoever.”