“My feet are wet,” said Mr. Dreary. “You lack the proper gear,” I said. We teetered along a trickle of land that wound between water and mud. “Here in the swamp, even the swans wear rubber boots.”

“The boy shall have a proper beating,' said Cecil.'But I beat him already,' I said, 'and don't tell me I didn't do it properly. I'm touchy about these things.”

“I don't like my shoes,' said Rose.'I'm wearing my shoes and you don't see me complain.''You only hear a person complain,' said Rose. 'Not see.'How has Rose lived for seventeen years and no one has killed her, not once?”

“Blast Cecil!” said Eldric. “You have my permission,” I said.”

“You mind your tongue!” “Oh, I do,” I said. “I sharpen it every evening on your name.”

“The sea up close is enormous. I squeezed my eyes against it for a moment, which is ridiculous, like fighting a giant with a pin. It comes to you anyway, through your ears and nose and skin and tongue. It is a savage, muscular thing, a vast dim wetness battering at the land and the air and all your senses.”

“Eldric turned away from the mirror, holding out his hand. In the cup of his hand lay his fidget of paper clips. But the fidget had blossomed into a crown. An allover-filigree crown, with a twisty spire marking the front.I stared at it for some moments. "It's for you," said Eldric. "If you want it.""I'm seventeen," I said. "I haven't played at princess for years.""Does that matter ?" Eldric set it on my head. It was almost weightless, a true crown for the steam age.In a proper story, antagonistic sparks would fly between Eldric and me, sparks that would sweeten the inevitable kiss on page 324. But life doesn't work that way. I didn't hate Eldric, which, for me, is about as good as things get.”