“You mind your tongue!” “Oh, I do,” I said. “I sharpen it every evening on your name.”

“How old are you?" said the girl. "What are you doing here? Do you live here? What's your name?" "I don't know," said Bod. "You don't know your name?" said the girl. "Course you do. Everybody knows their own name. Fibber." "I know my name," said Bod. "And I know what I'm doing here. But I don't know the other things you said.”

“Because when I pray, I say your name first, and I say your name last. When I breathe, I breathe for you. Every kind thing I say, every good thing I do, I do because I know you're in the world and I...I love you.”

“The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.”

“Oh, I apologize, Padre. I said ‘you will see.’ I forgot that you can’t, in fact, see. So I apologize, but only for the slip of the tongue. Because you and I both know your infliction is something for which the Landlord alone is responsible.”

“My Prayer? Oh' Lord give me the mind of a warrior that has been taught to fear your name, The soul of a prophet with the tongue and courage to speak truth though I be surrounded by those that despise it and the heart of a boy that believes he can slay a giant”