She sensed the pain coming off of him and helped him to a sitting position. "Does it hurt?"
He winced.
"I'll get you some IB profane."
She rushed into the kitchen and brought the bottle out, "you should probably eat something first you're not supposed to take these on an empty stomach."
A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it. — Roald Dahl