If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.
Riza: Without his Alchemy he's just...Jean: A little brat who swears a lotMaes: An arrogant pipsqueakRoy: Useless. Just uselessAlphonse: Sorry big brother, I don't know how to add to that...Ed *starts to cry*: YOU'RE ALL PICKING ON ME!!!
Neither novels or their readers benefit from any attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.
And just then Damon stepped out of the coat closet, and at the same time Aunt Maggie tripped him neatly and said, Bathroom door beside you, and picked up a vase and hit the rising Damon over the head with it. Hard.