“And when the baker had plastered his feet, he ran to the miller. 'Miller,' he said, 'strew me some white meal over my paws.' But the miller refused, thinking the wolf must be meaning to harm someone. 'If you don't do it,' cried the wolf, 'I'll eat you up!' And the miller was afraid and did as he was told. And that just shows what men are.”

“I remember once I asked Wayne for the time," Miller told Mercer. "He started talking to me about the cosmos and how time is relative." Miller and [Wayne] Shorter were waiting somewhere -- an airport, a train station, a hotel. The band's keyboardist, Joe Zawinul, who took charge of such matters as what the road crew was supposed to do and when, set Miller straight. "You don't ask Wayne shit like that," he snapped. "It's 7:06 p.m." [p.1]”

“But you, fine sir." John Miller clapped Dexter on the shoulder, a bit unsteadily. "You have problems of your own.""This is true," Dexter replied, nodding."The women," John Miller sighed.Dexter wiped a hand over his face, and glanced down the road. "The women. Indeed, dear squire, they perplex me as well.""Ah, the fair Remy," John Miller said grandly, and I felt a flush run up my face. Lissa, in the front seat, put a hand to her mouth."The fair Remy," Dexter repeated, "did not see me as a worthwhile risk.""Indeed.""I am, of course, a rogue. A rapscallion. A musician. I would bring her nothing but poverty, shame, and bruised shins from my flailing limbs. She is the better for our parting."John Miller pantomined stabbing himself in the heart. "Cold words, my squire.""Huffah," Dexter agreed."Huffah," John Miller repeated, "Indeed.”

“Why," he panted into Danny's neck, "why's it so goddamn good?" He was surprised at how full his voice sounded, so close to overflowing its steady banks. Danny stroked his hair, his lips warm against Miller's cheek. "Because it's us, Miller," he whispered. "Because it's us.”

“Too many dots," Miller said. "Not enough lines.”

“W-Who knows? W-Who cares? I'm eating. - Gilbert Miller”