“Please go to this pizzeria. Order the margherita pizza with double mozzarella. If you do not eat this pizza when you are in Naples, please lie to me and tell me that you did.”

“When I was a boy I used to love pizza, and whenever my father took me to the pizzeria I'd order two slices. And I'd sit and he'd watch me wolfing down the first slice with my eyes on the second. I wasn't even tasting that first slice. And one day my father said to me, "Son, you need to learn that while you're eating the first slice of pizza, eat the first slice. Because right now you're eating the second slice before you've finished the first.”

“So Sofie and I have come to Pizzeria da Michele, and these pies we have just ordered -- one for each of us -- are making us lose our minds. I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delerium that my pizza might actually love me, in return. I am having a relationship with this pizza, almost an affair. Meanwhile, Sofie is practically in tears over hers, she's having a metaphysical crisis about it, she's begging me, "Why do they even bother trying to make pizza in Stockholm? Why do we even bother eating food at all in Stockholm?”

“What are you eating?" he ask us."Whatever won't kill me, please" I said."Whatever don't kill you'll make you stronger" says Eddie, who is always ready with folksy wisdom."All right," I say. "Then give me whatever will make me stronger.""One pizza, coming up.”

“Would you please do me the honor of telling me WHAT THE BLAZES IS GOING ON?”

“Luke opened the pizza box and, finding it empty, shut it with a sigh."Though you did eat allthe pizza." "I only had five slices," Simon protested, leaning his chair backward so itbalanced precariously onits two back legs. "How many slices did you think were in a pizza, dork?" Clary wanted toknow. "Less than five slices isn't a meal. It's a snack." Simon looked apprehensively at Luke. "Does thismean you're going towolf out and eat me?”