“They can herd you only because you can't herd yourselves. Forget the flock. Forget the dogs. Herd yourselves.”

“No sheep may leave the flock," he said to anyone who would listen, "unless he comes back again.”

“The group was led by a very thin man whom the sheep didn't know. They looked hard at him. The leader of the flock is always important.”

“Cordelia was thinking how human beings can invent words, how they can line up their invented words side by side on paper. It was magic.”

“Cordelia loved his explanations. She loved knowing words that belonged to things she'd never seen, even to things you couldn't see at all. She remembered those words carefully. "Magic," George had said, "is something unnatural, something that doesn't really exist. If I snap my fingers and Othello suddenly turns white, that's magic. If I fetch a bucket of paint and paint him white, it isn't." He laughed, and for a moment it looked as if he felt like snapping his fingers or fetching that bucket. Then he went on, "Everything that looks like magic is really a trick. There's no such thing as magic." Cordelia grazed with relish. "Magic" was her favorite word - for something that didn't exist at all.”

“Glaubst du, es gibt mehr Wölfe?"Mehrwölfe? Die Schafe guckten erschrocken. Ein Werwolf war schlimm genug. Keines von ihnen wollte je einem Mehrwolf begegnen.”

“Justice!” bleated Othello. “Justice!” bleated the other sheep. And so it was decided that George Glenn’s sheep themselves would solve the wicked murder of their shepherd.”