“My mother, she killed me,My father, he ate me,My sister Marlene,Gathered all my bones,Tied them in a silken scarf,Laid them beneath the juniper tree,Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.”

“She is a friend of my mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.”

“My mother, Southern to the bone, once told me, “All Southern literature can be summed up in these words: ‘On the night the hogs ate Willie, Mama died when she heard what Daddy did to Sister.’” She raised me up to be a Southern writer, but it wasn’t easy.”

“She went in the pool," she finished for me. "Ohmigod. She was killed while tweeting. It was Twittercide!”

“You want me to whatbook? And Tweet? Like a bird? Are you serious?”

“My name is Sabastian. I had a father, but he is dead. I had a mother, but she is dead to me. I have a brother, and I will Bind him to me. I have a sister, and I will teach her to love me. My name is Sabastain, and I am going to burn down the world”