The Fantasy Writer's Assistant: And Other Stories

What good is the illusion of fiction if it cannot show us a way to become the people we need to be?

A slight grin that has nothing to do with merriment is the sure sign that she is about to set things straight. Her overall air is one of constant suspicion, and ever readiness to take offense.

He’s no physician, he’s Grandfather Mess. He couldn’t cure a pain in the ass unless he left the room.

“My dear Philosopher,” said the countess. “You give sanity a bad name.”