“In a sec.......let's see if this will help. Once there was a bunny that was very sad cause his ears were long and floppy and he stepped on them all the time." "Like my shoelaces?" "Yep, just like that. One day a beautiful fairy,,,,,,,," "The shoelace fairy?" "Yep. She landed on the bunny's head and.........." "Didn't that hurt? Does she have a wand?" "Nope. She lifted up the bunny's ears and crossed them over like an x." "I can cross my eyes.........look." "Lovely. She put one ear through the bottom of the x and she pulled." "She pulled the bunny's ears..........bad fairy." "No, she was trying to tie his.........." "Dan," Jordan laughed, "Stop. That is the worst thing I've ever heard." "Well, it's better than the teepees and the arrows and crap," Danny huffed. "Can I go see Andy now?" "Yes, go see Andy and his Velcro sneakers," Jordan snickered. "We give up.”

“Claire found herself staring at his feet, which were in bunny slippers. Myrnin looked down. "What?" he asked. "They're quite comfortable." He lifted on to look at it, and the ears wobbled in the air. "Of course they are," she said. Just when she thought Myrnin was getting his mental act together, he'd do something like that. Or maybe he was just messing with her. He liked to do that, and his dark eyes were fixed on her now, assessing just how weirded-out she was. Which, on the grade scale of zero to Myrnin, wasn't much.”

“The sniper puts the cellist in his sights. Arrow is about to send a bullet into him, but stops. His finger isn't on the trigger...His hand isn't even in the vicinity of the trigger...His head leans back slightly, and she sees that his eyes are closed, that he is no longer looking through his scope. She knows what he's doing. It's very clear to her, unmistakable. He's listening to the music. And then Arrow knows why he didn't fire yesterday...She is at once, sure of two things. The first is that she does not want to kill this man, and the second is that she must. Time is running out. There's no reason not to kill him. A sniper of his ability has wihtout doubt killed dozens, if not hundreds. Not just soldiers. Women crossing streets. Children in playgrounds. Old men in water lines. She knows this to a certainity. Yet she doesn't want to pull her trigger. All because she can see that he doesn't want to pull his...The final notes of the cellist's melody reach him, and he smiles. ”

“Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?”“No."“Well, how about that I needed to see you.”“Why? Did one of my neighbors call and say my cat’s been stalking their bunny?”One corner of his mouth went up. “You know, that sounds like a euphemism. A kind of salacious one”“Ooh, big words for Mr. Average Joe street cop,” she said, knowing she sounded bitchy but unable to help it. “Can you take out the angry eyes, Mrs. Potato Head, and just let me talk to you?”

“Once there was a bunny. This bunny had a birthday party. It was the bestest birthday party ever. Because that was the day the bunny got a bazooka. THe bunny loved his bazooka. He blew up all sorts of things on the farm. He blew up the stable of Henrietta the Horse. He blew up the pen of Pugsly the Pig. He blew up the coop of Chuck the Chicken. "I have the bestest bazooka ever," the bunny said. Then the farm friends proceeded to beat him senseless and steal his bazooka. It was the happiest day of his life. The end. Epilogue: Pugsly the Pig, now without a pen, was quite annoyed. When none of the others were looking, he stole the bazooka. He tied a bandana on his head and swore vengeance for what had been done to him. "From this day on," he whispered, raising the bazooka, "I shall be known as Hambo.”

“She was smiling as she leaned toward Reed, who stooped down to put his lips against her ear. He would tell her that he wanted to travel to Merendon, or Marring Cross or Cranfield, someplace far away and exotic. He was the sort of man whose wish altered every year.He said in a voice that only she could hear: "I wish you were not my sister."She pulled back and stared up at him. He smiled, his face just faintly touched with sadness, and tossed his true-love into the fire.”