“Ah," Caspar exclaimed when he walked into the kitchen. "The grey is a good choice. Makes you look much less demon-of-the-night.""Please, Caspar," he implored. "A date with a live woman. Soon.”

“Never underestimate the fury of an angry mother, Caspar. They're the most vicious creatures in the world.”

“Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.”

“You can't make a head and brains out of a brass knob with nothing in it. You couldn't do it when your uncle George was living much less when he's dead.”

“He walked into the house, smelling baked cookies. Now if that didn't make a house a home, nothing would. "Mmm!" he said loudly to announce his presence. "Something smells good!"Cricket poked her head out of the kitchen. "Come poach a cookie or two.""Yes, ma'am." He strolled into the kitchen and was pleased to see Suzy dressed in a pretty pink apron with red hearts on it. "Hello, Priscilla," he said. "Hi, Suzy.”

“No matter what choice you make, it doesn't define you. Not forever. People can make bad choices and change their minds and hearts and do good things later; just as people can make good choices and then turn around and walk a bad path. No choice we make lasts our whole life. It there's ever a choice you've made that you no longer agree with, you can make another choice . . . you can't change the past. Ah, but the future . . . you own the future. So, tell me . . . what choice do you want to make now?”