“I think you can only make statements like ‘She was pathological’ if you are absolutely sure of your own sanity, which I consider a morally unacceptable position.”

“I just thought: Oh goodness, you can wear nice clothes and get your hair done and still be a feminist and a serious intellectual.”

“And what do I smell like?""Like arrogance and self-adoration," she snapped. "I can smell it a mile off.Why bother saying you didn't help me when it could only have been you?”

“Lula," I said, "do you ever think about getting married?"I guess I do. Doesn't everybody?"You have to let your husband kiss you once you're married. And you have to kiss him back."No," she said.Yes." I nodded, as if I knew everything there was to know about husbands and wives kissing. "That's what they do together."Do you have to?"Oh, absolutely. It's the law."I never heard of that law," she said dubiously.It's true, it's Texas law," I said.”

“He's like...'I thought you were just friends.' You are my friend. You're my best friend. Why doesn't he get that? Anyway...I think he wants your dad to rally with him. I'm pretty sure he doesn't give a damn about the dry rot in the basement."I quirked the corner of my mouth dubiously. Dad rallying with Gabriel was pretty unlikely, considering the lengths he had gone to in proving his approval.Rafael took one look at me, horrified, and I knew we were on the same wavelength. He whispered: "If your dad gives my uncle the safe sex talk...”

“I know what you are. I've always known from the beginning, Kushiel's Chosen. It is folly, to make claim on one whom the gods have marked for their own. And unlike the others, I am no fool, to grasp at that which burns to the touch. What you have given..." she raised one hand, palm upward, the garnet seal dangling at her wrist, "... I hold in an open hand.”

“That night, when SanJuanna had cleared the main course and brought dessert in, my mother called for quiet and said, "Boys, I have an announcement to make. Your sister made the apple pies tonight. I'm sure we will all enjoy them very much.""Can I learn how, ma'am?" said Jim Bowie."No, J.B. Boys don't bake pies," Mother said."Why not?" he said."They have wives who make pies for them.""But I don't have a wife.""Darling, I'm sure you will have a very nice one someday when you're older, and she'll make you many pies. Calpurnia, would you care to serve?"Was there any way I could have a wife, too? I wondered as I cut through the browned C and promptly shattered the entire crust.”