“What's wrong?" asked Scott."It's the way I treated Julie, like she was the enemy. But she's not. She's the one I'm trying to save from the enemy.”

“No one is my enemy or the Gospel's... just prisoners of war that Christ longs to set free.”

“I'm alergic to dying, I break out in a bad case of death every time it happenes."-Wally McDoogle”

“I hope this story provokes you as much as it provoked me to write it.”

“Some people have a hard time walking and chewing gum at the same time. Not me I cant ever get the gum out of the wrapper!”

“Ephraim, it's an incredibly intimate thing to share one of your favorite books with someone else. I think so, anyway.""How do you mean?""Your father gave me a book on our second date, the first gift he ever gave me." She turned to the front page and studied it. "When you give someone a book, it's lie saying: 'I'm trusting you with something that means a lot to me.' It doesn't matter whether you like it or not, though it helps if you do. What matters is that you understand why she likes it. Why she gave it to you.”

“…a waitress came out and plonked in front of each of us a small standard terra-cotta flowerpot in which had been baked a little loaf of bread."What's this?" I asked."It's bread," she replied."But it's in a flowerpot?" She gave me a look that I was beginning to think of as the Darwin stare. It was a look that said, "Yeah? So?""Well, isn't that kind of unusual?"She considered for a moment. "Is a bit, I suppose." "And will we be following a horticultural theme throughout the meal?" Her expression contorted in a deeply pained look, as if she were trying to suck her face into the back of her head. "What?""Will the main course arrive in a wheelbarrow?" I elaborated helpfully. "Will you be serving the salad with a pitchfork?""Oh, no. It's just the bread that's special.""I'm so pleased to hear it.”