“Your pants didn't get smaller, Mommy," I assured her. "Your butt got bigger.”

“You don't get Billie Joe Armstrong's autograph on your forehead without following your instincts.”

“Where's Amy?" Ian put in. "Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!”

“Hamilton had a complaint. "Why did you have to tell the cops I'm your boyfriend? That's gross, Amy. We're related!"Amy was disgusted. "We had a common ancestor, like, five hundred years ago. Besides, if they think we're together, we only have to come up with one story, and I can do all the talking.""Hey, I got an early acceptance to Notre Dame," Hamilton said defensively. "I can talk.""Of course you can," Amy soothed. "It's what you say that might get us into trouble.”

“Desperately, Phoenix attempted to maneuver both tips of the instrument around the bullet. He knew that each move caused Nellie unimaginable pain, but he could not grasp the target. "It's no use," he sobbed. "And my hand is going numb."In a frenzy, Nellie shouted something into the gag, but no one could understand her."I beg your pardon, child?" queried Alistair.Nellie spat out the rag and rasped, "Get the Kabra chick!""Natalie?" Fiske exclaimed. "She's fallen completely to pieces.""Get her!" Nellie demanded. "Anybody with eyebrows plucked like that knows how to use a tweezers!"Reagan bounded across the room and came back with a shivering, mewling Natalie."I can't!" she wheezed.Fiske poured alchohol over the girl's beautifully manicured fingers. "You must."Still protesting, her eyes tightly shut, she took over the instrument from Phoenix. "I can't do it! You can't make me—oh!" She said in sudden surprise. "This?" And when she pulled the tweezers out of the wound, the tips were firmly grasping a flattened, blood-slimed bullet.Nellie laughed—and promptly fainted.”

“Dear Mr. Weston, Hello again. We were beginning to wonder what had happened to you. I guess things have been pretty quiet since the Salvation Army tried to take over the world. We are sorry, but after much deliberation we have elected not to assign any men to Protect Trillium Air Base. We feel that the Forces can protect themselves, and if they can't, who is going to protect the country? Also, thank you for sending us that shard of broken glass with the fingerprint on it. It was yours. Our mail clerk required four stitches and a tetanus shot. Relay our condolences to your Mr. Waghorn. We have no idea what unfortunate circumstance (for him) drew him to your ever-watchful attention, but he has no criminal record and his face is not known to us. Yours Sincerely,Bruce Hmmm, thought Sidney, Waghorn has no criminal record. "Let me see one of those," said Tom. "I'm sorry, Tom, but I can't show you the letters." Tom muttered something about a lack of trust. He was extremely alarmed at the intensity of Sidney's expression. As Sidney himself would have put it, the investigation was progressing. That meant trouble. There was always trouble when his brother got to the letter-writing stage. Tom would have to stay on his toes. Sidney opened the last letter. Dear Mr. Weston, Please stop bothering us. Cordially yours,The Ontario Provincial Police.”

“Here's some more stuff we're going to need."1 pair coveralls1 extension ladder (30 foot)1 glass cutter1 artist's portfolio (large)1 water pistol1 bottle india ink1 portable trampoline (collapsible)1 bicycle w/basket4 pizza boxesJonah whistled. "I hope you've got some crazy evil-genius strategy, 'cause–straight up–I don't get it.”