“Mr. Powell raised an eyebrow. 'I'm a librarian,' he said. 'I always know what I'm talking about.”

“I'm a librarian," he said. "I always know what I'm talking about.”

“I'm a librarian. I always know what I'm talking about”

“You know one thing that Mr. Powell taught me? He taught me that sometimes, art can make you forget everything else all around you. That's what are can do.”

“By the way, in case you weren't paying attention or something, did you catch what Mr. Powell called me? "Young artist." I bet you missed that.”

“A comedy isn't about being funny," said Mrs. Baker. "We talked about this before.""A comedy is about character who dare to know that they may choose a happy ending after all. That's how I know.""Suppose you can't see it?""That's the daring part," said Mrs. Baker.”

“On Saturday mornings during deliveries, I'd practice picking out new words in Jane Eyre, sounding out the ones that needed sounding out—and I'm not lying, there were plenty. "'A new servitude! There is something in that,' I soliloquized." I mean, who talks like that? Do you know how long it takes to sound out a word like soliloquized? And even after you do, you have no idea what the stupid word means except that it probably just means "said," which is what stupid Charlotte Brontë should have said in the first place. When I delivered Mrs. Mason's groceries, she saw that I had Jane Eyre stuck under my arm. "Oh," she said, "that was my favorite novel in school." "It was?" I soliloquized.”