Time is passing : not leaden steppingBut sprinting on winged feet,Quick silver slipping by.

A long shaft of light came down from the sun behind the clouds and fell on the rearing, striking horses so that Thowra was the glittering foam on a waterfall, was quicksilver held for a dazzling moment in the shape of a horse, but a horse that was never still

I don't know how to be anything but pretend," I replied, and it ached in me how true that really was. "But if I could be real, I'd be real for you.

This is fantastically squalid," said Milo. "We may never get out of here alive.