My Rapier Wit Hides My Inner Pain.

No Good Sentences Ever Include The Word ‘should.’ I Should Have Paid The Tavern Bill; Now They’re Coming To Break My Legs. I Should Never Have Run Off With My Best Friend’s Wife; Now She Devils Me Constantly. I Should—

Will: I Say We Sell Her To The Gypsies On Hampstead Heath. I Hear They Puchase Spare Women As Well As Hoses. Charlotte: Will, Stop It. That's Ridivulous. Will:you're Right. They'd Never Buy Her. Too Scrawny.

My Name Is Herondale," The Boy Said Cheerfully. "william Herondale, But Everyone Calls Me Will. Is This Really Your Room? Not Very Nice, Is It?" He Wandered Toward The Window, Pausing To Examine The Stacks Of Books On Her Bedside Table, And Then The Bed Itself. He Waved A Hand At The Ropes. "do You Often Sleep Tied To The Bed?

You Know,” Cecily Said, “you Really Didn’t Have To Throw That Man Through The Window.

Ragnor [was] Always Happy To See Chaos, But Not Be Involved In It.