“Fabulous" Jack said, reaching down and plucking a crimson flower. A small scream sounded from it as he severed the stem. He smiled maliciously, then started stomping with abandon through the beds of blossoms, a chorus of tinny, shrill screams punctuating every step.”

“... was after all a rather mature blossom, such as could be plucked from the stem only by a vigorous jerk.”

“When we reach out to pluck a flower the stem trembles, seeming both to shrink and to offer itself. The human body has something of this tremor at the moment when the mysterious hand of death reaches out to pluck a soul.”

“The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms. Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him.”

“AHA!” screamed a voice from overhead . . . Peeves was hanging upside down from a chandelier and grinning maliciously at them.“Potty asked Loony to go to the party! Potty lurves Loony! Potty luuuuurves Looooooony!”And he zoomed away, cackling and shrieking, “Potty loves Loony!”

“Well now, Jack," Hastings said from the sidelines. "I'm afraid you've been beheaded. Not a good start." He sounded amused.”