“She loves swimming,” said Ellen, who I knew had been a competitive swimmer in college. Ellen looked in the rearview mirror at Kara.“Don’t you Kara?” asked Ellen.There was no response. “I didn’t start until I was three,” said Ellen. “She’s got a two year start on me.”

“I looked up at Ellen and her not-glowing pentagram. "Harm none is the rule, Ellen: bad witch, no cookie.”

“What about you, Ellen?' he asked. 'What does music mean to you?'It was a while before she answered. 'When I was at school... quite little still... there was a girl there who had perfect pitch and a lovely voice and she played the piano. I used to hear people talking about her.' She paused, lacing her fingers together. '"She's musical," they used to say, "Deirdre's musical," and it was as if they'd said: "She's angelic." That's how it seemed to me to be musical: to be angelic.'Isaac turned to her. 'My God, Ellen,' he said huskily, 'it is you who are angelic. If there's anyone in the world who is angelic it is you.”

“Ellen Degeneres: “There’s a curfew for all the people on American Idol and you didn’t pay attention to it, ever.”Blake: “Yeah, why?”Ellen: “Why? That’s my question.”

“She stood looking carefully at the labeled portraits Ursala had put up: Little Crow, Chief of the Santees, Geronimo, last of the Apaches, and Ursala's favorite, Big Foot, dying in the snow at Wounded Knee."Isn't that where the massacre was?" asked Ellen."Yes. I'm going to go there when I'm grown up. To Wounded Knee.""That seems sensible," said Ellen.”

“Ellen could have killed me," Jack said quietly, "but she didn't. She saved my life.""How come?" Fitch demanded. "After all this?"Ellen turned scarlet and stared at the ground. "Maybe none of my opponents ever gave me flowers before," she mumbled.”