The 13 Clocks

Remember laughter. You'll need it even in the blessed isles of Ever After.

Time is for dragonflies and angels. The former live too little and the latter live too long.

I can feel a thing I cannot touch and touch a thing I cannot feel. The first is sad and sorry, the second is your heart.

I make mistakes, but I am on the side of Good," the Golux said, "by accident and happenchance. I had high hopes of being Evil when I was two, but in my youth I came upon a firefly burning in a spider's web. I saved the victim's life." "The firefly's ?" said the minstrel. "The spider's. The blinking arsonist had set the web on fire.

You mere device," he gnarled. "You platitude! Your Gollux ex machina!

The brambles and the thorns grew thick and thicker in a ticking thicket of bickering crickets. Farther along and stronger, bonged the gongs of a throng of frogs, green and vivid on their lily pads. From the sky came the crying of flies, and the pilgrims leaped over a bleating sheep creeping knee-deep in a sleepy stream, in which swift and slippery snakes slid and slithered silkily, whispering sinful secrets.

What would you do without me? Say 'nothing.'" "Nothing," said the Prince. "Good. Then you're helpless and I'll help you.

Time lies frozen there. It's always Then. It's never Now.

I am the Golux, the only Golux in the world and not a mere device

There was an old coddle so molly, He talked in a glot that was poly, His gaws were so gew That his laps became dew, And he ate only pops that were lolly.

They've got him!" squealed the Duke. "Eleven men to one!" "You may have heard of Galahad," said Hark, "whose strength was as the strength of ten." "That leaves one man to get him," cried the Duke.

I can do a score of things that can’t be done. I can find a thing I can’t see, and I see a thing I can’t find. The first is time, and the second is a spot before my eyes. I can feel a thing I cannot touch, and I touch a thing I cannot feel. The first is sad and sorry, and the second is your heart. What would you do without me? Say “nothing”.

Half the places I have been to, never were. I make things up. Half the things I say are there cannot be found. When I was young I told a tale of buried gold, and men from leagues around dug in the woods. I dug myself." "But why?" "I thought the tale of treasure might be true." "You said you made it up." "I know I did, but then I didn't know I had. I forget things, too.

A dehoy who was terribly hobble, Cast only stones that were cobble And bats that were ding, From a shot that was sling, But never hit inks that were bobble.

The oyster is a blob of glup, but a woman is a woman.

Once upon a time, in a gloomy castle on a lonely hill, where there were thirteen clocks that wouldn't go, there lived a cold, aggressive Duke, and his niece, the Princess Saralinda. She was warm in every wind and weather, but he was always cold. His hands were as cold as his smile and almost as cold as his heart. He wore gloves when he was asleep, and he wore gloves when he was awake, which made if difficult for him to pick up pins or coins or the kernels of nuts, or to tear the wings from nightingales. He was six feet four, and forty-six, and even colder than he thought he was.

You'll never live to wed his niece. You'll only die to feed his geese.

Something very much like nothing anyone had ever seen before came trotting down the stairs and crossed the room. "What is that?" the Duke asked, palely. "I don't know what it is," said Hark, "but it's the only one there ever was.

We all have flaws," he said, "and mine is being wicked.

The Princess Saralinda was tall, with freesias in her dark hair, and she wore serenity brightly like the rainbow. It was not easy to tell her mouth from the rose, or her brow from the white lilac. Her voice was faraway music, and her eyes were candles burning on a tranquil night. She moved across the room like wind in violets, and her laughter sparkled on the air, which, from her presence, gained a faint and undreamed fragrance. The Prince was frozen by her beauty, but not cold, and the Duke, who was cold but not frozen, held up the palms of his gloves, as if she were a fire at which to warm his hands.

The Duke is lamer than I am old, and I am shorter than he is cold, but it comes to you with some surprise that I am wiser than he is wise.