“He shook his head, but I kept flattering him, telling him how fine his beard was, how fair his skin was (ha!), how it was obvious from his nose and forehead that he wasn't some pig herd who had converted, but a true-blue Muslim who had flown here on a magic carpet all the way from Mecca, and he grunted with satisfaction”

“He who flatters a man is his enemy. he who tells him of his faults is his maker.”

“Lucky Charms?” I asked.“Magically delicious,” he explained. “Requisite for any sort of building project.”I shook my head, still amazed at how he had managed to weasel his way over here. “This isn’t a date.”He cut me a scandalized look. "Obviously. I’d bring Count Chocula for that.”

“I didn't think he was a robot...but I did wonder if his emotions had been designed out of him. Of course, with a guy, how could I tell? Ha ha!”

“How could he possibly understand just how much she had to give and how desperately she wanted to give it to him, and him alone? He, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but bore it with this capable strength. He, who stood alone at the top, silent and courageous in his dedication to the legacy he had inherited. And lastly, he, who so clearly needed someone, anyone, to understand him.”

“I had a tendency to forget how handsome he was when I was plotting how to peel his skin from the network of muscles and sinew that danced as he moved.”