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“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward. 
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?�
He, of course, replied, “No.�
“Well, we’re going to a better place.�
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.�
“Are you afraid of ghosts?� I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,� he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,� as I knew he would.  He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined. 
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?â€� Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“Somebody always had to pay, and he was glad it was not going to be him. Meanwhile he had managed to ruin the perfect marriage by turning Dick into a crayfish and making Rachael think that he had run off with another woman.”
― Max Nowaz, Get Rich or Get Lucky

“On the night bus, I felt as though parts of other people were going into parts of me I didn’t even know existed. I felt like I was being more intimate with members of the night-bus community than I’d ever been with anyone in my whole life.”
― Helen Fielding, Mad About the Boy

“Pero aunque el país más pobre, a pesar de la inferioridad de sus cultivos, puede en alguna medida rivalizar con el rico en la baratura y calidad de sus granos, no podrá competir con sus industrias, al menos en las manufacturas que se ajustan bien al suelo, clima y situación del país rico.”
― Adam Smith, La Riqueza De Las Naciones

“No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now.”
― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

“God didn’t reach down and lay a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder.”
― V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic

“As with Jakobson, I queried Poston as to the source of Manson's philosophy. Scientology, the Bible, and the Beatles. These three were the only ones he knew.
A peculiar triumvirate. Yet by now I was beginning to suspect the existence of at least a fourth influence. The old magazines I'd found at Barker, Gregg's mention that Charlie claimed to have read Nietzsche and that he believed in a master race, pus the emergence of a startling number of disturbing parallels between Manson and the leader of the Third Reich, led me to ask Poston: "Did Manson ever say anything about Hitler?"
Poston's reply was short and incredibly chilling.
A. "He said that Hitler was a tuned-in guy who had leveled the karma of the Jews.”
― Vincent Bugliosi, Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders

“Let her go to Italy!" he cried. "Let her meddle with what she doesn't understand! ”
― E.M. Forster, Where Angels Fear to Tread