“Criminy?" I asked."Hmm?""What are we doing?""I'm having a meal with a friend while you squirm like a child," he said serenely.”

“Wait," I said looking around. "How do we get off of this thing and onto the island?"Criminy's mouth compressed into a thin line. Then his lips started to twitch. Then he started to shake. And then he cackled, head thrown back, as if it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard."Darling, I have no idea whatsoever," he said, "I didn't think that far ahead.”

“It's a little scary, what you do." As I tried to figure out how to respond, and with words as sharp and cold as the blade of a knife, Criminy said, "If you're scared of her talent, then you don't truly know what fear is.”

“Why, Criminy Stain," I said. "You're a romantic.""Oh, no," he said with a grin. "I'm fiendish and unscrupulous, a vicious killer and a thief and a bloodthirsty monster. And maybe a little romantic. But don't tell anyone, or my reputation's shot.”

“I watched him playing with the long blades of grass, weaving them into patterns as he hummed an unfamiliar song, a waltz."What are you doing?" I asked him."I'm letting you get used to the idea of me," he said idly. "I'm pretending to be harmless. Is it working?""Until you smile," (...)”

“He was watching me, and he chuckled. "Do you know how a man tames a wolf?" he asked me."No," I said."You get some clothing that you've been wearing for a while, and you toss it in with her. In the cage or the cavern where she sleeps. That first one, she rips up, shreds it to nothing. The second one, she just mouths it a bit, gets a taste. Inhales, like you're doing there. The third but of clothing, she starts dragging it around, loving on it, sleeping with it. And then you've got her under your spell. She's got the scent of you, wants to keep it around. She'll follow you everywhere.""Are you calling me a wolf?" I asked."Are you calling me a man?" he said.”

“I don’t know,” I said, exasperated. “What else do you have in your wacked-out world? Heat sensors? Mine fields? Dirigibles? Booby traps? Machine guns? Shrink rays? What?” “Aside from dirigibles, which are rather expensive and rare outside of trade routes, most of what you just said made no sense whatsoever,” he said, as delighted as a child hearing a foreign language for the first time. “But it all sounds very dangerous. And fun. Especially the part about the boobies.”