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This was all years ago, of course -- long before the Nomenclus had begun to die, and even longer before the Passage family returned to regrow the extinct creatures' numbers.

Technically, her name was Olivia Pitty, but everyone called her "Pitted Olive," and by the time she started to mind it, sometime in her twelfth year, it was too late to object. And besides, she knew, it was fitting.

I didn't think it was funny when you bought me a goat to replace my totaled car; and I especially don't think it's funny now that the goat has syphilis.

Glenn's stories were always endlessly fascinating, though after a time I started to doubt that he was ever really sommelier to the Raj.

When I was eight and still very nimble, I met a boy who could pick locks with his feet; which is how we became the youngest Alcatraz escapees in history.

Aye, she were a sturdy lass, battered by years at sea and built like a walrus who'd got tangled in a dress; but there weren't a single lighthouse keeper on the whole Tuscan coast who weren't tickled to call her Wifey for a night.

"Awestruck" was the only word that could convey my feelings upon breaking through the cloudbank and seeing vast mountainside's endless ribbons of evergreens and granite outcroppings and now, finally, me, rolling down it at the center of an ever-growing snowball.