" We’re not there, that’s just air, that glimpse of wing you saw right there That dying cow, that wasn’t us, so don’t you cuss, and don’t you dare Cross-the-sprites-and-curse-their-spite-and-make-your-hand-a-stony-fist You can’t punch us, we don’t exist, we’re only mist, And that was just the wind that hissed. We don’t care, and we weren’t there, and for a dare, we would never snap that chair And-leave-it-looking-like-it-was-perfectly-all-right-and-wait-for-someone-big-and-fat-and-old-to-put-their-lardy-fat-behind-on-it-and-SMOOSH-BANG-HA-HA-HA-!-SMASH!!!!!-the-entire-thing-shatters-into-tiny-smithereens-and-then-they-land-upon-the-stony-floor-and-break-their-jaw-and-fuss-and-roar-and-cry-until-they-cry-no-more… "

― Cressida Cowell , The Wizards of Once (The Wizards of Once, #1)