Hope Is The Forward-looking Part Of Memory.

Chrestomanci Smiled And Swept Out Of The Room Like A Very Long Procession Of One Person.

Interesting Things Did Seem To Happen, But Always To Somebody Else.

Tell Me About This Wizard Howl Of Yours." "he's The Best Wizard In Ingary Or Anywhere Else. If He'd Only Had Time, He Would Have Defeated That Djinn. And He's Sly And Selfish And Vain As A Peacock And Cowardly, And You Can't Pin Him Down To Anything." "indeed? Strange That You Should Speak So Proudly Such A List Of Vices, Most Loving Of Ladies." "what Do You Mean, Vices? I Was Just Describing Howl. He Comes From Another World Entirely, You Know, Called Wales, And I Refuse To Believe He's Dead!

Fantasy For Me As A Kid Was Real, And I Had A Fantasy About What Life Was, Whether It Was Sort Of Wicked And Dire, Or Wholly Normal, Or Whatever. Anything Really Close To Home Is Not, It Seems To Me, What A Good Book Should Be About.

By This Time, Half The People In High Norland Were Gathered In Royal Square To Stare At The Castle. They All Watched With Disbelief As The Castle Rose Slightly Into The Air And Glided Toward The Road That Led Southward. It Was Hardly More Than An Alley, Really. "it'll Never Fit!" People Said. But The Castle Somehow Squeezed Itself Narrow Enough To Drift Away Along It And Out Of Sight. The Citizens Of High Norland Gave It A Cheer As It Went.