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So I departed, leaving behind a pungent smell of brimstone. Just something to remember me by.

Jonathan Stroud

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Jonathan Stroud
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: October 27
Novelist
Writer
Jonathan Anthony Stroud
Behinds
Behind
Remember
Something
Pungent
Brimstone
Departed
Smell
Leaving

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What is a gathering without unseemly drunkenness?
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Haven't you done enough for a lifetime? Think about it - two power - crazed magicians killed, a hundred power - crazed magicians saved.
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Fiftey years isn't too bad. With luck you might see it happen when your a sweet,old granny,dandling big fat babies on your knee. Actully-he held up a hand,interrupting Kitty's cry of protest-no,that's wrong. My projection is incorrect. Good. You'll never be a sweet old granny. Let's say,'sad,lonely old biddy' instead.
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And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.
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That's usuаllу hоw thеу start, thе young оnеs. Meaningless waffle.
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Most traditional ghost stories feature rather hapless protagonists, who have nasty things happen to them.
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Jabor finally appeared at the top of the stairs, sparks of flame radiating from his body and igniting the fabric of the house around him. He caught sight of the boy, reached out his hand and stepped forward. And banged his head nicely on the low-slung attic door.
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I read a bit of the Icelandic sagas. They're fascinating in that they are completely ordinary. The farmer will go off into the hills and fight a troll, and then go back and do ordinary things. It's an odd mix of fantasy and reality.
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Besides, if you're going to die horribly, you might as well do it with style.
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Oh, the boots were on the other eight feet now.
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Hey, we've all got problems, chum. I'm overly talkative. You look like a field of buttercups in a suit.
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What was it that drew you back? My marvellous personality, I suppose? Or my sparkling conversation?
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He was transfixed at the sight of the lords and ladies of his realm running about like demented chickens.
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Did Lovelace's forces find you? Did Jabor break in? He spoke slowly through clenched teeth. I went to get a newspaper This is getting better and better! I shook my head regretfully. You should leave such a dangerous assignment to people better qualified: next time ask an old granny, or a toddler-
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The column hung above the middle of the pentacle, bubbling ever upward against the ceiling like the cloud of an erupting volcanoe. There was a barely perceptible pause. Then two yellow staring eyes materialized in the heart of the smoke. Hey, it was his first time. I wanted to scare him. And it did, too.
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Her clarity gave her purpose and her purpose gave her clarity.
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If anyone else asked that question, O He Who Is Terrible and Great, I would have said they were an ignorant fool in you it is a sign of the disarming simplicity which is the fount of all virtue.
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We communicated with pithy, rather monosyllabic thoughts: viz. Run, Jump, Where? Left, Up, Duck, ect. (This latter was an observation I made on the edge of a lake. Nathaniel unfortunately took it as a command, which resulted in our temporary immersion.) We didn't ever quite say Ug, but it was a close-run thing.
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That's a gesture of endearment in some cultures. Some hug, some kiss, some set each other on fire in small patches of woodland
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Ah, you coward! Look at you, running. Actually, it's called improvising.
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