“Eating be eating, b'ain't it, Birdie?''Nay, Uncle Bear: In Caermelor, at the Royal Court, they be so-oh, so much more advanced than anywhere else. 'Tis not done to wipe your fingers on your hair or the tablecloth, or belch, or speak with your mouth full of food, or scratch, or pick your teeth at table. Ye have to use little forks to pick up the food. Ye not allowed to pour wine for your betters or for yourself, but to wait for them to deign to pour it for ye, if they be feeling generous. And the carving of the meats must be done a certain way, and as for the toasts-it would take ye a whole day just to learn the complications.'Takes the fun out of eating,' observed Sianadh.”

“Nay, it ain't got fleas, and 'tis a girl.”

“Mindful of not thanking their benefactors, in case, like wights, they took offense, she added, "Your kindness is gratefully acknowledged. May your trees be forever fruitful.”

“Should they be thanked or does thanks drive them away?"You honor us," she stammered. "We request your help.”

“Would ye both eat your cake and have your cake?”

“I want youand it will be so,While I have life.”

“Margaret quirked her lips, looking much like the imp their mother used to call her. "What flower would ye pick for Katherine Campbell?" Callum snorted. "I wouldna pick flowers." "Ye let her take a bite out of ye." Maggie looked up at him, then cut him off when he opened his mouth to speak. "Ye fancy her. What flower would ye pick for her?" "Tulips," he mumbled, ignoring her knowing smirk.”