“I will but confess the sins of my green cloak to my grey friar's frock, and all shall be well again.”
“I am much relieved as I confess all my sins to conscience.”
“Ambition is all very well, my lad, but you must cloak it.”
“Look well on this, my son," said the green-skinned man, "for one day I shall rule a clockwork kingdom of such beings, and you shall be its prince.”
“Yes, darling, that is quite a nice frock, but the hankerchief is not only the wrong shade of grey, but quite damnably tied. Let me show you, my sweet.”
“Well — when I write my book, and tell the tale Of my adventures — all these little stars That shake out of my cloak — I must save those To use for asterisks...”