“She wished, as almost all kids wish at one point or another, that she could turn into a pterodactyl and fly away and never come back.”

“For a moment she could have sworn she was standing in one of those history-comes-alive museums--the kind that feature animatronic robots, the narration stylings of James Earl Jones, and the sort of exhibits that invade children's nightmares for years to come. But instead of a cyborgish John Wilkes Booth discharging his deadly bullet into the back of a plastic Lincoln's head, a very real version of the assassin was engaged in a furious arm-wrestling match with Elvis Presley.Lincoln was watching the tussle, amused. "Come on, John," he said. "You can do better than that.""He's all talk," Elvis whispered back."Silence!" roared Booth. "I'm trying to concentrate!"Lincoln rolled his eyes.”

“There comes a time in every young girl's life when she is instructed by a complete stranger to scale a tall ladder for dinner atop a roof, and in almost every case the best thing to do is refuse and run home to call the asylum from which the stranger escaped.”

“But they were her parents! Putting up with all of her crap was their official job - they couldn't wriggle out of it! She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. How could they do this to her?”

“Where did you hear that?" he shouted over Driggs' cries of pain from the back seat."Driggs told me," she quickly answered."Thanks, pumpkin," Driggs groaned. "Love you too.”

“The boy took a step toward her. Lex jumped back, her contentious instincts kicking in. "Stop right there," she warned. "I punch, I kick, and I feel compelled to warn you, I can bite harder than the average Amazonian crocodile."He smirked and leaned against the doorframe. "And I feel compelled to warn YOU that the bathroom we now share has a leaky ceiling," he said, pointing up. "There's an umbrella under the sink, if you're going to be in here for a while.”

“The festivities were broken up by Pandora, who lobbed a scoop of ice cream at Lex that landed on the table with a sticky sploosh.“Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!” she screeched, jigging back into the kitchen.”