In for a lamb, in for a ram, as the sheep-stealers say just before we hang them. - Esther Friesner

Faith gagged again, in earnest. Amanda had let her to believe that she was anything but pure, purity no longer being the fashion. Yet here was Geordie, carrying on over her in a style that was popular in the Middle Ages, when you had to adore your lady from afar because if you did it from anear, you’d get her Daddy’s sword in your belly.

When the majority is crazy, the sane ones are kept in asylums. She knew that well; she’d majored in World History.

Few hearts are brave enough to stand between old newspapermen and their liquor. Fewer still would defy the thirsty hordes of the electronic media.