“He glutted black ravens on the rampart of the stronghold, though he was no Arthur.”

“You can pet him, Mr. Arthur. He's asleep…”

““We’d like to agree with you.” He glanced at Arthur.
“We can’t, however,” Arthur said.
“For the moment, then, amicable disagreement and open minds.””

“Night is a stealthy, evil raven, wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.”

“For her, this was a metaphor, he reminded himself. Though maybe he was a metaphor too, inside his head with the Black Gang. A metaphor gone metastatic.”

“Arthur blinked at the screens and felt he was missing something important. Suddenly he realized what it was.

"Is there any tea on this spaceship?" he asked.”

“When I die
let the black rag fly
raven falling
from the sky.”

“Always Sir Arthur lost so much blood that it was a marvel he stood on his feet, but he was so full of knighthood that knightly he endured the pain.”

“Yep," said Arthur. Somehowseemed the most positive thing he could say. Stronger thanand more heroic than. He hoped he could live up to it.”

“To Sylvan truth was truth and all else was black heresy, though on occasion he had the very human difficulty of deciding which was which.”