“I went to a foot specialist recently and she said:"You've broken a bone, it's healed funny.""What can you do?""Not much."She strapped me up though and that's the reason my foot is hurting, because the strapping gave me cramp.When I'm about to die I'm going to head ti a swamp so I topple in when the time comes. In 50,000 years when they dig me up, pretty well preserved, the scientists will have to work out what sort of life I led from my bone structure, teeth and whatnot. Maybe I'll be clutching a Felt record or something to give them a clue. They'll look at my foot and say: "This man broke a bone and it's healed funny." And they'll look at the Felt record, analysing the grooves with a Groove Analyser and they'll say: "He was obviously in an indie band and one day the pressure got too much, and he booted a wall." And they wouldn't be far from the truth, those crazy scientists.”

“I often wonder what she's thinking," says Ed, still gazing up at her. "That's quite an intriguing expression she has.""I often wonder that myself," chimes in Malcolm Gledhill eagerly. "She seems to have such a look of serenity and happiness...Obviously, from what you've said, she has a certain emotional connection with the painter Malory...I often wonder if he was reading her poetry as he painted...""What an idiot this man is," says Sadie scathingly in my ear. "It's obvious I what I'm thinking. I'm looking at Stephan and I'm thinking, I want to jump his bones.""She wanted to jump his bones," I say to Malcolm Gledhill. Ed shoots me a disbelieving look, then bursts into laughter.”

“If we're going to die there's no harm in telling me pretty lies, In the end it won't matter, and I'll die happy.""I have no intention of letting either of us die. And then where would the lies get us?""If you manage to keep us alive then I promise I'll forget. Just tell me you care about me. If we're going to die then how important is the truth?""It's because we might die that the truth is particularly important,And telling you that I care about you is a waste of time. I wouldn't have crossed the ocean, come out of hiding and tracked you down ifyou didn't matter to me.""Then come up with a better lie. Tell me you love me.""You don't need lies, Chloe,I do love you." he said.”

“If you dare try to leave me behind, I'll follow on foot, and when I die in the snow, Ill come back and haunt you. I'll make your life a complete misery. No ghost will ever have been as inventive in its nastiness as I'll be: I'll turn your food rancid; I'll transform your drink into blood; I'll howl and moan throughout the night; there'll be no place safe from me. And don't think I couldn't do it, Thirrin, Queen of Icemark, because I can assure you, I could.”

“Who shot you?"For a moment he looked annoyed. "I fail to see what that's got to do with anything. Reading assures me that anyone who's ever met me would have reason to shoot me, so I mustadmit with all candor that I have no idea. Was it you?""If I'd shot you I wouldn't have missed," she said."Was that wishful thinking or are you in fact a practiced shot?""Desire would have made up for lack of expertise.”

“You'll marry me, my dragon, and you'll bear my children, and you'll drive me mad and live in that ramshackle old house with me and I'll even put up with the occasional visit from your sister ifI must. But you'll marry me. Not because you have to. But because I won't let you go.""Why?" she demanded.And he answered the only way he could, in French. "Je't'aime," he said. "I love you.""Je't'aime aussi," she said. "And I will make your life a living hell," she added in the same language.He smiled down at her. "I'm counting on it.”

“My mom tries to comfort me by saying that girls like Heather Campbell tend to peak early in life and then quickly fade. That's why she looks so much better than everyone now. But by the time I go to my ten-year reunion, I'll be way prettier than she is. To which I always reply with the same statement, "I don't want to be pretty in ten years. I want to be pretty now."Because what good is it to me now that I might or might not be drop-dead gorgeous when I'm twenty-seven? It's not like I can go to school every day with a big cardboard sign around my neck that says, "Trust me, in ten years, I'll look like this." And then an arrow pointing to a picture of a supermodel.”