…for nothing is ever so mischievous in its own place as it is out of it;

It has been said that idleness is the parent of mischief, which is very true; but mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the dreary vacuum of idleness

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.

I promise I will repay you.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, looking at him, with his bare feet and plain, dark clothes. “With what?”
The smile stayed on his lips. “Jewels, lies, slips of paper, dried flowers, memories of things long past, useless quotations, idle hands, beads, buttons, and mischief.

something that just came out of me. It was a bit of mischief.