“But this was fancy; she was succumbing to fancy in a way she hadn't done before.”

“Galinda didn't see the verdant world through the glass of the carriage; she saw her own reflection instead. She had the nearsightedness of youth. She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was significant, though what she signified, and to whom, was not clear yet...She was, after all, on her way to Shiz because she was smart. But there was more than one way to be smart.”

“She dropped her shyness like a nightgown, and in the liquid glare of sunlight on old boards she held up her hands-as if, in the terror of the upcoming skirmish, she had at last understood that she was beautiful. In her own way.”

“Your childhood," said Yackle coaxingly, as if she could smell his thoughts. As if she could sniff out those passages he hadn't chosen to retail at drink parties. Her words lulled him. The past, even a bitter past, is usually more pungent than the present, or at least better organized in the mind.”

“So she listened hard. And she began to evolve, because stories work their magic that way. They build conviction and erode conviction in equal measure.”

“They had ganged up on her, in the claustrophobic, loving way of families, and she wanted no more of it.”

“She's sent the crows out to blind the guests coming for dinner!"What?"She's BLINDING THE GUESTS COMING FOR DINNER!"Well, that's one way to avoid having to dust, I suppose.”