“How do you feel?" he asked him."Like a military academy," said Arthur. "Bits of me keep on passing out.”

“How do you like your eggs?" she said. "Hard or soft?""Hard," he bit out. "Why am I not surprised.”

“When I asked him for some explanation as to why he wanted to kill me, he said it was because he didn't like his jobs. When I asked him since when had he not liked his jobs, he said since always. When I remarked that he had never told me this, and that I had gotten the impression that he had liked them, he said: "How is that possible? You know me. Do I strike you as stupid or boring?""No.""Then how could you think I would enjoy being an etiquette expert, or a Weight Watchers' counselor, or a stripper? How could you think that someone like me, with my mind, my character, would derive any satisfaction from those things?”

“Why do I feel like I can't trust you anymore?'I wanted him to lash out. I wanted him to fight, to protest, to argue- to do anything but look deeper into my eyes and say, 'because the Gallagher Academy doesn't admit fools”

“The thing about witchcraft," said Mistress Weatherwax, "is that it's not like school at all. First you get the test, and then afterward you spend years findin' out how you passed it. It's a bit like life in that respect”

“I wish I had adventures like you do,” Leaf said as she traced her finger over the writing on the invitation.“They didn’t feel like adventures,” said Arthur.”