“I swear on Annie’s grave,” Gary repeated to Mel, “this ain’t my fault. They were like this when I picked ’em up at the station.”

“You set us up!”“No! I swear—” Her face fell. “Mel. Mel must’ve told him.”“Right,” I grumbled. “Blame Mel.”

“How do I know you'll keep your word?" asked Coraline."I swear it," said the other mother. "I swear it on my own mother's grave.""Does she have a grave?" asked Coraline."Oh yes," said the other mother. "I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back.”

“Wow. You guys are like a broken record. Don't you ever get tired of the whole 'knock 'em our and drag 'em back to the cave' routine? 'Cause I swear, Cro-Magnons were more subtle.”

“I'll call you," he repeated."If you call me, I won't pick up the phone.""You will wait by the phone for my call, and when it rings, you will pick it up and you will speak to me in a civil manner. If you don't know how, ask someone.”

“When people die,” I said, “and you’ll be able to verify this for yourself—most of ’em move on. A few of ’em stick around. But the ones who stick around are usually messed-up. Murders and suicides, or people with unfinished business. As for accidents and illness—at the very worst, they leave a little residue. A repeater. A psychic impression of the final moments, like a moving snapshot. I think the spirits of those repeaters, they’re fine. They go wherever it is people…go. When they die.”