“...you have been fraternizing with warewolves overmuch! Military men can be terribly bad for one's verbal concatenation!”

“Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.”

“Ah, Ivy, thought Alexia happily, spreading a verbal fog wherever she goes.”

“Stop playing verbal games with me, madam, or I shall go out into that ballroom, find your mother, and bring her here”

“I have died and gone to the land of bad novels.”

“Ivy waved the wet handkerchief, as much as to say, words cannot possibly articulate my profound distress. Then, because Ivy never settled for meaningful gestures when verbal embellishments could compound the effect, she said, "Words cannot possibly articulate my profound distress.”

“The Gamma paused. “You have a crazed werewolf in your wine cellar?” “You can think of a better place to stash him?” “What about the wine?”