Barnaby the Wanderer Quotes

“Yes, I use my chamber pot to punish the wicked. Just not the tea pot. The tea pot is strictly for tea. If you wish to know, my chamber pot is five miles across, deep as Abaddon’s eyes and filled daily with excrement so foul as to make harpies regurgitate the bones of mortals devoured when St. Chronos was a youngster. I fill the chamber pot myself, most mornings. Usually while reading. I take my time. It’s a moment of quiet, which Infernum knows, Infernum lacks. Often I have my most inspiring thoughts right there atop the pot.”
― Raymond St. Elmo, Barnaby the Wanderer

“She wrote you a poem,” said Barnaby. “Did she now?” asked the necromancer. He bent, gathering up shreds of paper. Sighed, and let the tatters fall again, drifting down like autumn leaves. “It’s titled ‘To My Dear Pente’.” “I assume, oh Marquise, that you will not be content till you have read it to me. So let’s hear, and have done.” Barnaby read aloud. “Die.” He paused, continued. “Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.” He stopped, turned several pages. “Die. Goes on and on. Just that.” “Well, it rhymes well,” observed Night-Creep.”
― Raymond St. Elmo, Barnaby the Wanderer

“And if you send Barnaby to sell valuables, he'll return with a magic rock that makes soup whensoever you drop it in a pot, say the magic phrase ‘soup, please’, and then add water, carrots, onions and mutton.” “That would be a fine thing to have,” argued Barnaby, suddenly famished. “Are there really such magic stones?”
― Raymond St. Elmo, Barnaby the Wanderer

“Barnaby the miller’s son hid no tangled drama behind his eyes. He was a happy idiot delighting in the summer day, smiling at the pleasant road before him. And yet, and yet... he knew. So why go on an adventure meant for his death? Why laugh with the breeze, greet birds and mankind with a smile? I can’t comprehend it.”
― Raymond St. Elmo, Barnaby the Wanderer