“Tea is the magic key to the vault where my brain is kept.”

“She is the key to this mystery, a key that I will turn, by hook or by crook.”

“My business in the Capital is concluded,’ Tamarind explained. ‘Kindly send a letter to Mr Kohlrabi’s lodgings, telling him that I require his presence as soon as he is back in the city, then bring me a dish of tea, the latest issue of the Gazette and a bag of dead cats.”

“My child, you have a flawed grasp of the nature of myth-making. I am a poet and storyteller, a creator of ballads and sagas. Pray do not confuse the exercise of the imagination with mere mendacity. I am a master of the mysteries of words, their meanings and music and mellifluous magic.”

“Lost: one bonnet, two clogs. Kept in spite of the odds: two thumbs, one life.”

“Neverfell was tired, so very tired. Waiting in her room to learn of her fate, her mind kept dropping away into sleep for numb instants no longer than a blink. Next moment her thoughts would jar her awake again, thrashing and crashing and clattering like a monstrous waterwheel, turning and turning without end or purpose. She jerked and stared and barely knew where she was, dream pieces floating like iceberg shards across her half-waking mind.”

“Where is your sense of patriotism?"I keep it hid away safe, along with my sense of trust, Mr. Clent. I don't use 'em much in case they get scratched.”