Neil Gaiman

“Funny if we both got it wrong, eh? Funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad one, eh?”

He’d been an angel once. He hadn’t meant to Fall. He’d just hung around with the wrong people.

The angel turned to Crowley.
“Really, my dear,” he murmured.
“Sorry,” said Crowley. “I was forgetting myself.”

“Don’t you try to tempt me,” said Aziraphale wretchedly. “I know you, you old serpent.”

Fairy tales are more than true: not because

they tell us that dragons exist, but because

they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

—G. K. Chesterton

She was, as yet, unmarried, although she was very much in love

It was chilly that April, with the awkward changeability of English spring

I have a cottage on the edge of my father’s land,”

The spring moon was high and bright, and the night was clear

Bromios had set up a wine-tent and was selling wines and pasties to the village folk, who were often tempted by the foods being sold by the folk from Beyond the Wall but had been told by their grandparents, who had got it from their grandparents, that it was deeply, utterly wrong to eat fairy food, to eat fairy fruit, to drink fairy water and sip fairy wine.