“I have quite a story to tell you,” Parke said with a dramatic flair. “Sit back with that ‘coke’ and listen to the tale I’m about to spin. It’s a grand one, full of action, suspense, intrigue, violence, and even some juicy stuff. Just what a good story should have, don’t ya’ think?”

“Steve always had a flair for the dramatic. He should have raised one ghostly fist in the air as he said it; though,for the full effect.”

“I’m surprised a person with your experience in telling elaborate fables should have difficulty in thinking up such a simple tale, but I suppose it’s a different issue when you have to think quickly rather than spend time thoroughly developing your story.” “I’m sure that’s it,” she replied blithely, cutting her bacon into small bits.“I’m also sure that my skills will grow over time. I just need to practice, practice, practice. Did I ever tell you about the dragon I owned when I was a child?”

“No, it’s not a very good story - its author was too busy listening to other voices to listen as closely as he should have to the one coming from inside.”

“I love your stories. Tell me a story, Idgie. Go on, you old bee charmer. Tell me a good tall tale. Tell me the one about the lake. ~Ruth Jamison”

“This is what I liked most about my friends: just sitting around and telling stories. Window stories and mirror stories.”