“I looked down at my clothes. They were slashed to pieces and full of bullet holes, but I was fine. Not a mark on me.Nico's mouth hung open. "You just . . . with a sword . . . you just—""I think the river thing worked," I said."Oh gee," he said sarcastically. "You think?”
“You look like hell,' he said to me in a low voice.'Gee, Dax, don’t coat it with honey. Tell me what you really think,' I said.”
“That is because you don't yet know how to deal with time," said Wen. "But I will teach you to deal with time as you would deal with a coat, to be worn when necessary and discarded when not.""Will I have to wash it?" said Clodpool.Wen gave him a long, slow look."That was either a very complex piece of thinking on your part, Clodpool, or you were just trying to overextend a metaphor in a rather stupid way. Which, do you think, it was?"Clodpool looked at his feet. Then he looked at the sky. Then he looked at Wen."I think I am stupid, master.""Good," said Wen. "It is fortuitous that you are my apprentice at this time, because if I can teach you, Clodpool, I can teach anyone.”
“You look confused," said Adrian.I shook my head and sighed. "I think I'm just overthinking things."He nodded solemnly. "That's why I try to never do it.”
“You went back in time,” he repeated, “and you expect his cell phone to work?”“Well, no, I just, I mean, I came back and he hasn’t! Shouldn’t he have?”Morrison, very steadily, said, “Were you together?”“No! I just said he went to fight the Morrigan!”“I see.” There was a pause. “The man is seventy-four years old, Joanie. He can take care of himself. If you were,” a great and patient pause filled the line before he went on, “time traveling. If you were time traveling and got separated, then I can’t think of any reason he would necessarily come back to the present at the same time you did.”“Except I was the focal point, it was my fault, it --!”“Joanne. Siobhan. Siobhan Grainne MacNamarra Walkingstick.”I didn’t think anybody had ever said my name like that before. I gulped down a hysterical sob and whispered, “Yeah?”Morrison, with gentle emphasis, said, “I love you. Now pull yourself together and go find the bad guy,” and hung up.”
“The first meeting I really remember with the good doctor was when I was starting to be able to speak English again and making a brave attempt to regain some of my dignity. Trying to be very sane, I went up to him and asked if he was my doctor. He said he didn't think so."You're Dr. Dale, aren't you?""Why, Mark, of course. I didn't recognize you with clothes on." He had a talent for saying just the right thing.”