I seem to have excalibured this knife.
Diana Wynne JonesAidan was fascinated by Mr. Stock's hat. Perhaps it had once been a trilby sort of thing. It may once hace even been a definite color. Now it was more like something that had grown - like a fungus - on Mr. Stock's head, so mashed and used and rammed down by earthy hands that you could have thought it was a mushroom that had accidentally grown into a sort of gnome-hat. It had a slightly domed top and a floppy edge. And a definite smell
Diana Wynne JonesOn Wednesday, for variety, he accosted Andrew as Andrew went out to check the state of the garden walls and presented a further cardboard box containing ten kilos of tomatoes and a squash like a deformed head of a baby.
Diana Wynne JonesMr. Stock came out of the competition tent carrying his zeppelin marrow on one shoulder and demanding to know what was going on. When he saw the hordes advancing on Aidan, he charged off that way, whirling the great vegetable. The Puck, who was rushing behind the horde, yelling at them to grab Aidan and kill Rolf, was Mr. Stock's first victim. The marrow caught him THOCK! on the side of the head. It laid the Puck out cold on the grass, but the mighty vegetable remained intact, mottled and glossy
Diana Wynne JonesWizard Howl," said Wizard Suliman. "I must apologize for trying to bite you so often. In the normal way, I wouldn't dream of setting teeth in a fellow countryman.
Diana Wynne JonesStichwörter: humor welsh wales
I got myself to the middle and sort of groped along there with one hand out in front.
And something groped back at me.
It sort of dabbed at me, whatever it was, wet and cold and desperate. It groped at my hand and then at my face. I went backward with a shriek and sat down in a puddle. It had felt like a snake. But the thing shrieked and went backward too. The ground shook under my behind. I sat staring, shaking all over. There was just enough gray light for me to pick out what seemed to be a couple of small trees, with the snake coiling this way and that down from them. I thought I must have walked into a forest.
"Oh, please!" said the forest--unless it was the snake. "Help me! I'm lost! I'm stuck!"
"What kind of a snake are you?" I said.
"I'm not a snake! I'm an elephant!" it said despairingly.
Elephants that talked now! I thought. But I'd already met a panther that I could understand, so, why not? It was all one long, mad dream.
"It's more like a nightmare, I think," the elephant objected. "And I"m not exactly talking. You must be good at picking up four-legged thoughts. Please help me!
I am a total zombie just after I wake up. It takes me half an hour even to get my eyes open. Ask anyone who knows me. I can't see; I can't talk properly; I can't do anything without help. The only think I can do properly is think. And I know how to exploit my condition. I've had years of practice.
Diana Wynne JonesStichwörter: sleep
By now it was clear that Howl was in a mood to produce green slime any second. Sophie hurriedly put her sewing away. "I'll make some hot buttered toast," she said. "Is that all you can do in the face of tragedy??" Howl asked. "Make toast!
Diana Wynne JonesStichwörter: sophie howl diana-wynne-jones howl-s-moving-castle
In addition, Master Twinkle seems convinced that someone is denying him a pair of stripey trousers.
Diana Wynne JonesI feel ill," [Howl] announced. "I'm going to bed, where I may die.
Diana Wynne JonesStichwörter: humor fantasy fiction young-adult
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