“There was something about the eyes. It wasn’t the shape or the color. The was no evil glint. But there was…… a look. It was such a look that a microbe might encounter if it could see up from the bottom end of the microscope. It said: You are nothing. It said: You are flawed, you have no value. It said: You are animal. It said: Perhaps you may be a pet, or perhaps you may be a quarry. It said: And the choice is not yours.”

“Matar slowly approached the coffee and picked it up carefully, like it might bite him. He  removed the lid and sniffed. "It's not poisoned," I said. "What are you? You conjure things from nowhere." "Perhaps I'm an afrit, a genie. Perhaps I'm an angel." Cox watched this exchange with interest. "Perhaps you are Shaitan," said Matar. I raised my eyebrows and Cox obligingly said, "Satan." I smiled a smile that didn't touch my eyes. The blood drained from Matar's face. "Perhaps," I  said. "Welcome to hell.”

“you could have said what you wanted to say but something may distract to be spoken truth,,must be the enemy of your heart,,”

“Where did you go to, if I may ask?' said Thorin to Gandalf as they rode along.To look ahead,' said he.And what brought you back in the nick of time?'Looking behind,' said he.”

“You might be locked in a world not of your own making, her eyes said, but you still have a claim on how it is shaped. You still have responsibilities.”

“Mr. Branwell and Mr. Carstairs seem to have no problem cleaning their boots,”Sophie said, looking darkly from Will to Tessa. “Perhaps you could learn from their example.”“Perhaps,” said Will. “But I doubt it.”Sophie scowled, and started off along the corridor again, her shoulders tightly set with indignation.Tessa looked at Will in amazement. “What was that?”Will shrugged lazily. “Sophie enjoys pretending she doesn’t like me.”“Doesn’t like you? She hates you!”