“The crafty otter produced a flat pebble from his helmet, spat on one side of it, and held it up for the bird to see. 'Right, I'll spin ye. Dry side, I win, wet side, you lose. Good?' The honey buzzard nodded eagerly... Buteo's keen eyes watched every spin of the stone until it clacked down flat on the deck. Garfo grinned from ear to ear. 'Wet side! You lose!”

“Look, Aerin, preparation is only half the challenge of winning a debate.”“And the other half?”He had her now. “You have to choose the right side.”“Your side, you mean.” She bristled.“No, the losing side.”“What?”“Always choose the weaker side.”“Why would I do that?” Doubt edged her voice, but now she was sitting erect, her feet flat on the floor.“Because then you have further to go to prove your case.” He eased the feet of his chair down. “In a debate, there are two sides. If both make a good argument, then the less popular side wins because that side had further to go to prove its point. Simple logistics.”“If you don’t care which side wins.” She frowned.“It’s a debate. It doesn’t matter which side wins.”“You mean it doesn’t matter to you.” The tone in her voice unsettled him. Or maybe it was the fact that that her criticism disturbed him at all.“It’s a class,” he said. “The point is to flesh out the different sides of an argument.”“And you don’t care if the truth gets lost in the shuffle. Don’t you believe in anything?!”

“Flat muscled and honey coloured. Sea secrets in his eyes. A silver raindrop in his ear.”

“I’m like the master. I like to walk on the wild side.” It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “I am not the wild side,” I told him flatly. “I’m about as far from the wild side as it’s possible to get.”

“I can see by your face that I'll never persuade you. And that's surprising, because usually you at least try to see my side."I can see your side," said Cecily. "I've got a much clearer view of it than you do, from over here on my side.”

“Everyday you wake up on the right side of the dirt is a good one.”