“Did you name your pigeons with names?" asked Wiffle (the Chick).These three, the sandy and golden brown, all named themselves by where they came from. This is Chickamauga, here is Chattanooga, and this is Chattahoochee. And the other three all got their names from me when I was feeling high and easy. This is Blue Mist, here is Bubbles, and last of all take a look at Wednesday Evening in the Twilight and the Gloaming."Do you always call her Wednesday Evening in the Twilight and the Gloaming?"Not when I am making coffee from breakfast. If I am making coffee for breakfast then I just call her Wednesday Evening.”

“Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice?Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.”

“Show me the telegrams they sent you, one every day for six days while they were walking six hundred miles on their pigeon toes."..1. Feet are as good as wings if you have to. Chickamauga. ...3. In the night sleeping you forget whether you have wings or feet or neither. Chattahoochee. ...6. Pity me. Far is far. Near is near. and there is no place like home when the yellow roses climb up the ladders and sing in the early summer. Pity me. Wednesday Evening In The Twilight And The Gloaming... Well, Wednesday Evening was the only one I noticed making any mention of the yellow roses in her telegram," Hatrack the Horse explained.Then the old man and the girl sat on the cracker box saying nothing, only listening to the yellow roses all on fire with early summer climbing up th ecrooked ladders, up and down and crossways, some of them leaning out and curving and nearly falling.”

“Names are still magic; even Sharon, Karen, Darren, and Warren are magic to somebody somewhere. In fairy stories, naming is knowledge. When I know your name, I can call your name, and when I call your name, you'll come to me.”

“Trace asked Jackson, “Why the hell are you even here?”Jackson looked far too uneasy for Trace’s peace of mind. “I know you didn’t want me here. I got the message loud and clear when you cut the call. Thing is, your little lady was damned insistent that I do something.”“Like get stunned and tied up?”“You try planning with a hellcat breathing fire in your ear, making demands, prodding you-““Priss?”“She’s a terror. That name doesn’t suit her at all.”

“The city was the perfect place, it was... Heaven. And when I got here people said: who are you? But I thought they were asking where so I said, Heaven.’Melrose sucks his pen. ‘And that became your name.’‘It’s not my name. It’s just what people call me.”