“Do something!" Norwood told him."Do what?" Uncle Mort's face was furious. "Fly up there and get it? You bring your broomstick, Hel?”

“Do they pay you by the hour or what? Norwood said to the monocled peanut face.”

“I was a teenage boy once too, you know," Uncle Mort said, popping back up. "I know what your brain looks like. It's a three-ring circus in there.”

“They had completely failed to notice Norwood and Heloise storming out of the house, Uncle Mort scaling the ladder, and the fact he was now staring at them and had been for several minutes."Good grief," he said. "As if I didn't have enough to worry about."Lex and Driggs jumped apart and wiped spittle from their mouths. "What's up?" Driggs said in a terrible attempt at nonchalance."Hormone levels obviously.”

“Sirrah, your Father's dead: And what will you do now? How will you live?Son: As birds do, mother.L. Macd: What with worms and flies?Son: With what I get, I mean; and so do they.”

“We face up to awful things because we can't go around them, or forget them. The sooner you say 'Yes, it happened, and there's nothing I can do about it,' the sooner you can get on with your own life. You've got children to bring up. So you've got to get over it. What we have to get over, somehow we do. Even the worst things.”