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It was only when Shona, in sheer fury, turned the carnivorous sheep among them that they moved. They ran, some of them with charming little white sheep attached to their legs or backsides and the rest shouting about monsters.
Diana Wynne Jones
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Diana Wynne Jones
Age: 76 †
Born: 1934
Born: August 16
Died: 2011
Died: March 26
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
London
England
Diana Gwyneth Jones
Littles
Sheep
Carnivorous
Little
Monsters
Backsides
Legs
Shouting
Turned
Fury
Moved
Attached
Among
Charming
Rest
Ran
White
Sheer
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One person ought to treat another person properly, even if the person's himself.
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What a strange family you are! Is your name Lettie too?
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Look. Survey. Inspect. My hair is ruined! I look like a pan of bacon and eggs!
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All these things that crib and cab in your brain, in your imagination, are in fact things that might well in later life drive you insane.
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I only want to catch you,” Michael explained. “I won’t hurt you.” “No! No!” the star crackled desperately. “That’s wrong! I’m supposed to die!” “But I could save you if you’d let me catch you,” Michael told it gently. “No!” cried the star. “I’d rather die!
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It's a lucky child that knows that they're a genius, unaimed and all that.
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And you're too nice, he added, above the lap-lap of the water and the patter of sand on the water-lily leaves. I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place.
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Settle for what you can get, but first ask for the World.
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Nobody gets praised for the right reasons.
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He picked up the skull and knocked an onion ring out of its eye socket. I see Sophie has been busy again. Couldn't you have restrained her, my friend? The skull yattered its teeth at him. Howl put it down rather hastily.
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And it's a pity too that I've no right to open your letters. I hope you don't get many, or my conscience will give me no peace.
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After that, he tried to go upstairs through the broom cupboard, and then the yard. This seemed to puzzle him a little. But finally he discovered the stairs, all except the bottom on, and fell up them on his face. The whole castle shook.
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Busy old fool, unruly Sophie
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Chrestomanci smiled and swept out of the room like a very long procession of one person.
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Don’t interrupt,’ one of the boys said. ‘He’ll lose his life.’ Seeing it was a matter of life and death, Sophie and Michael backed toward the door. But Howl, quite unperturbed at killing his nephew, strode over to the wall and pulled the boxes up by the roots.
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Can't you treat yourself with a bit more consideration?' 'Why should I?' Mordion said, hugging the duvet round himself. 'Because you're a person, of course!' Ann snapped at him. 'One person ought to treat another person properly even if the person's himself!
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So you were going to rescue the Prince! Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch? Not likely! I'm a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell myself I'm not doing it!
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Go to bed, you fool, Calcifer said sleepily. You're drunk. Who, me? said Howl. I assure you, my friends, I am cone sold stober. He got up and stalked upstairs, feeling for the wall as if he thought it might escape him unless he kept in touch with it. His bedroom door did escape him.
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