“Everything‟s fine,” I said, with a tight smile. “Kiyo was just giving me his latest explanation about how my son is a terror to be feared.” Dorian scoffed. “Little Thundro? A terror? Hardly, unless perhaps we‟re discussing diapers.”

“I looked around at us all: me in my nightgown, Kiyo bare-chested, Dorian in his extravagant robes, and Tim in his Native getup. God, I muttered, standing up, we all look like the village people.”

“No one can terrorize a whole nation, unless we are all his accomplices.”

“What really alarms me about President Bush's 'War on Terrorism' is the grammar. How do you wage war on an abstract noun? How is 'Terrorism' going to surrender? It's well known, in philological circles, that it's very hard for abstract nouns to surrender.”

“But it's not the name I'd give to a conqueror of worlds... I would've gone with Thundro or Ragnor. I might just call him Thundro anyway.”

“My breathing is controlled, but all the fear and anger within me. Fear is too simple a word. Terror. That's what I feel.”