Time went by with all the speed of a sleepless night. — Scott Lynch

I don’t want you to agree with me; I want you to use your misplaced acorn of a brain before the squirrel comes looking for it again.

“I say again, impossible.”

“And I correct you again. Difficult. ‘Difficult’ and ‘impossible’ are cousins often mistaken for one another, with very little in common.”

“What’s your hand [of cards] look like?“

“A parched desert...How’s yours?“

“A wasteland of bitter frustration.“