The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise silverflamed, and there by the door the timps… — Anthony Burgess Copy Share Image
Watching a dog try to chew a large piece of toffee is a pastime fit for gods. Mr. Fusspot's mixed ancestry had… — Terry Pratchett Copy Share Image
It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, thought Harry, was surely the only way to travel… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Back at the Chateau Windsor there was a rat-like scratching at the door of my room. Vinod, the youngest servant, came in… — Tahir Shah Copy Share Image
From this height the sleeping city seems like a child's construction, a model which has refused to be constrained by imagination. The… — Ian Rankin Copy Share Image
I shall strip away layer after layer of grime -- the toffee-colored varnish and caked soot left by a lifetime of dissembling… — John Banville Copy Share Image
I was bought an electric guitar when I was 12, but my guitar teacher beat me up. I didn't like guitar lessons...… — Simon Cowell Copy Share Image
“The low early sunshine was streaming through the wood and the grass was grey with dew and the cobwebs were like silver.… — C.S. Lewis Copy Share Image
Coraline opened the box of chocolates. The dog looked at them longingly. "Would you like one?" she asked the little dog. "Yes,… — Neil Gaiman Copy Share Image
A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right, like when you… — Jodi Picoult Copy Share Image
Ah! Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“He comes over and lifts the foil off the pan. I can see that it is golden and crispy, and the scent… — Stacey Ballis Copy Share Image
Someone will always hate what I say. There’s always going to be somebody spitting blood about my wooden-faced, toffee-named, crappy acting. — Benedict Cumberbatch Copy Share Image
Watching the Commons tribute to Margaret Thatcher was like being suffocated inside a gigantic sticky toffee pudding, but one with nasty bogeys… — Simon Hoggart Copy Share Image
Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs.… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right. — Jodi Picoult Copy Share Image
So there I was lying in the gutter. A man stopped and asked '"What's the matter? Did you fall over?" So I… — Chic Murray Copy Share Image
