Words were indeed insubstantial...but they were also as powerful as water and now they were rushing over the audience, eroding the levees of veracity, carrying away the .
'That doesn't matter. A king isn't something you're good at. It's something you .'
It had sat on too many troubled heads. If you held it to your ear, you could hear the .
Let the camera of the eye pan slowly back along the dim, ancient corridors, taking in the dripping fungi, the rusting chains, the damp, the shadows...
The standing stone was back in its normal place, but still poised to run if any came into view.
Can anyone hear us? Look, it's really too much. There's been some laughable mistake, look, the come right off…'
There is a school of thought that says that witches and wizards can never go They went, though, just the same.
No wonder everyone needed prompting all the time. The play was under their hands, trying to change itself.
He found his fingers wanted to make a sign to ward off evil .
Death gave the Fool a puzzled look. Then he reached into the recesses of his robe and pulled out an hourglass. It had on it.
It was a landscape of beauty.
He wasn't, he felt, a good king, but he'd had a lifetime of working hard at being something he wasn't cut out to be, and he was .
There was which paid no attention to the Five Cadences or Twelve Inflections.
The worried her. It had a magic of its own…magic that didn't belong to magical people. It was commanded by ordinary people, who didn't know the rules.
Death gave him a manic grin of .
The Fool gave the terrified, ingratiating of young men everywhere when confronted by importunate elderly women commenting on their intimate personal lives.
…if he listened he could hear the muted sobs and occasional whimpers from the students' dormitories, as they contemplated with the life that lay ahead
‘But when you get along in the Craft, you learn that the magic is the sort you don’t use at all.’
The Fool was trembling with fear in perfect to the castle, so that he was the only thing that now appeared to be standing perfectly still.
And then we can get away from here, he said to himself, away from your eyes like two raw and this female mountain in a red dress…
marriages and an adventurous girlhood had left Nanny with thighs that could crack coconuts.
Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need .
In the morning the early risers grew accustomed to finding discarded experiments decorating the grass around the carts, like extremely literate .
But being to the duchess didn't seem to achieve much, she didn't understand it, she just thought it was weakness.
The front ranks of the massed creatures opened to let her pass, and then closed again. Even the .
The kingdom exhaled.
This was real. This was more real even than reality. This was . It might not be true, but that had nothing to do with it.
And she was longing for him to get back, so she could look forward to seeing him again.
'Words can fight even .'
For a moment the of his right hand scrabbled ineffectually at the stonework, and then it vanished.
‘ ,’ said Granny, witheringly. ‘As if the world weren’t full of enough history without inventing more.’
Drinking in the Drum has been likened to diving in a swamp, except that in a swamp the don’t pick your pockets first.
...as the new day wound across the landscape, each one busy with her own thoughts, each one a witch , they went home.
Death was intrigued. They thought they wanted to be taken out of themselves, and every humans dreamt up took them further in.
But people claiming that they were dead with every in their body was a new and unsettling experience.
Once again he stared hard at the Fool, who was watching them with his mouth open, and looked back at Tomjon.
Nah, he thought. .
I SEE, he said. The tone suggested that was too good for cat-haters. YOU LIKE GREAT BIG DOGS, I IMAGINE.
is important, see, but people go wrong when they think it controls them. It’s the other way around.’
It wasn’t his face she was examining. It was his . Her eyeballs were tracking him from nape to nose like a pair of calipers.
The kiss lasted more than years.
Not even frogs can manage that.
He’d capered and clowned with an impenetrable determination and he’d graduated top of his year and had been awarded the Bladder of Honour.
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