It's much easier, she realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it.

“It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.”

“In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying…”

“Myself? That's no good, either.”

“She's not here," I tell him. Buttercup hisses again. "She's not here. You can h…”