Check out that one at the end. He's taken the form of a footstool. Weird...but somehow I like his style.""That is a footstool.

Can you define "plan" as "a loose sequence of manifestly inadequate observations and conjectures, held together by panic, indecision, and ignorance"? If so, it was a very good plan.

Holly was staring at me. "Who were you talking to just then?""No one! You!""I don't believe you.""Look, does it really matter right now?""If we're going to be working together, Lucy....""Oh, hell! All right! I'll tell you! It's an evil haunted skull that lives in my backpack! Happy, now?

The bristling eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. Mesmerized, the boy watched them disappear under the hanging thatch of white hair. There, almost coyly, they remained just out of sight for a moment, before suddenly descending with a terrible finality and weight.

It was Nathaniel's boundless capacity for stating the obvious that made him so charmingly human.

I wanted to wake you straightaway, but I knew I had to wait several hours to ensure you were safely recovered.""What! How long has it been?""Five minutes. I got bored.

The Amulet of Samarkand. It was Simon Lovelace's. Now it is yours. Soon it will be Simon Lovelace's again. Take it and enjoy the consequences.

To my astonishment I saw him standing at a table with Kitty Jones. It was the Kitty Jones bit that was astonishing. Not the table. Though it was very nicely polished.

The mole dug its way deep, deep down, under the foundations of the wall. No magical alarm sounded, though I did hit my head five times on a pebble.Once each on five different pebbles. Not the same pebble five times. Just want to make that clear. Sometimes you human beings are so dense.