“You're from somewhere, aren't you?”

“Get up to turn your chair away from hera few degrees. And look at me. I maybe someone else's longed-for phantom. Pourme some more wine; tell me the story; listen:it's a dreary wish to want the whole world ghostless.”

“The grapes he foraged set my teeth on edge.I want to hack through their wild vines, dissectthis anger. It's a tangle: steep hill strungwith old foxgrapes among the hardwood, toughenough to swing from (proto-bungee rushthat's like a fit of rage, adrenalinalive inside me), or to strangle in.Vines choke.”

“The crunch of bone is what religion thrives on.”

“Tell the truth, Giovanni Vecchio." A mischievous look came to her eye. "You have a butler, a cool car, and I've only ever seen you at night..."He froze, tension suddenly evident in the set of his shoulders. Beatrice leaned closer and whispered, "You're Batman, aren't you?”

“Where did you get the idea you aren't allowed to petition the universe with prayer? You are part of this universe, Liz. You're a constituent--you have every entitlement to participate in the actions of the universe, and to let your feelings be known. So, put your opinion out there. Make your case. Believe me--it will at least be taken into consideration.”

“Okay, I guess you can come in.""Um, Hannah, you have to, you know, open the front door so I can actually come in.""I thought you were going to - you're standing under my window. Aren't you supposed to climb up here or something?""My ladder's at home. Also, you call throwing rocks at your window clichéd?”