Wet Towel Under The Door,' Said Barry.

Christmas Crept Into Pine Cove Like A Creeping Christmas Thing: Dragging Garland, Ribbon, And Sleigh Bells, Oozing Eggnog, Reeking Of Pine, And Threatening Festive Doom Like A Cold Sore Under The Mistletoe.

The Problem With Being Nuts, She Thought, Is That You Don't Always Feel As If You're Nuts. Sometimes, In Fact, You Feel Perfectly Sane, And There Just Happens To Be A Trailer-shaped Dragon Crouching In The Lot Next Door.

Mr. Fresh Looked Up. "the Book Says If We Don't Do Our Jobs Everything Could Go Dark, Become Like The Underworld. I Don't Know What The Underworld Is Like, Mr. Asher, But I've Caught Some Of The Road Show From There A Couple Of Times, And I'm Not Interested In Finding Out. How 'bout You?" "maybe It's Oakland," Charlie Said. "what's Oakland?" "the Underworld." "oakland Is Not The Underworld!" "the Tenderloin?" Charlie Suggested.

No Theory Ever Benefited By The Application Of Data, Amy. Data Kills Theories. A Theory Has No Better Time Than When It's Lying There Naked, Pure, Unsullied By Facts. Let's Just Keep It That Way For A While." "so You Don't Really Have A Theory?" "clueless." "you Lying Bag Of Fish Heads." "i Can Fire You, You Know. Even If Clay Was The One That Hired You, I'm Not Totally Superfluous To This Operation Yet. I'm Kind Of In Charge. I Can Fire You. Then How Will You Live?" "i'm Not Getting Paid." "see, Right There. Perfectly Good Concept Ruined By The Application Of Fact.

Children See Magic Because They Look For It.