There are few joys to compare with the telling of a well-told tale.

I told you what his salary was. Y'all act like I was telling you wrong.

The thing with pretending you're in a good mood is that sometimes you can.

When all's said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it's not so much which road you take, as how you take it.

I hate the thought of her being forced into a box that doesn't fit her. Of having her wings cut off, her sight blinded, her hearing muted, her voice stilled.

T.H. moved through the forest like the melody of a well-known song, in perfect harmony with his surroundings.