“Does anyone smell roasting meat?' said Razo, 'Oh, wait, it's just Geric's face.”

“We had come so close to greatness. We had smelled it, and it smelled like roast pig. Everybody likes the smell of roast pig. But what is worse, smelling the roast and not feasting, or not smelling the roast at all?”

“Dasha!' Rin yelled, 'Dasha!'A face looked up, then two. They started walking toward her, then running. Dasha was in front, her eyes set on Razo, her face caught in an expression of desperate hope. 'Razo,' she said, .... 'Razo, it had better be you. If it just looks like you, I am going to kill you. It had better-' He'd reached her by then. They embraced, and he swung her around, her legs lifting in the air, her tunic swirling...Then Dasha was kissing Razo's face and crying and smiling and declaring all his perfections. 'Well, this isn't half-bad,' said Razo, 'I think I'll die more often.' Dasha embraced him again and squeezed until Razo had to admit he was injured. 'Love the lips, not the ribs,' he said, and pulled her into a long kiss.”

“But what is worse, smelling the roast and not feasting, or not smelling the roast at all?”

“Interrogated by Pearl about the smell of roasting men and whether the Chinese variety smelled different from white flesh, Wang Amah replied confidently that white meat was coarser, more tasteless and watery, "because you wash yourselves so much.”

“I'm Razo, a member of Bayern's Own," he said, stopping himself from adding "Loafing is just a hobby of mine.""Bayern's Own? But you're a child." Razo looked up to the sky. "I'm not a child, I'm just short.”