“... Up telephone poles, Which rear, half out of leavageAs though they would shriekLike things smothered by their ownGreen, mindless, unkillable ghosts.In Georgia, the legend saysThat you must close your windowsAt night to keep it out of the houseThe glass is tinged with green, even so,As the tendrils crawl over the fields.The night the Kudzu hasYour pasture, you sleep like the dead.Silence has grown orientalAnd you cannot step upon the ground...ALL: Kudzu by James Dickey”

“Is this one of those keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer things?""I though it was keep your friends close so you have someone to drive the car when you sneak over to your enemy's house at night and throw up in his mailbox.”

“I learned in that moment that there are different darknesses. That there is ordinary darkness, like the night in the countryside, where, even on a night with no moon, as you stare things loom, take form; and there is another darkness, a darkness so profound you cannot begin to imagine it, cannot conjure it up in your mind. A darkness that blots out all you remember or hope for. A darkness that teaches that all that consoles you is false.”

“Sei: The Kudzu snacks were so good I had two and a half bowls but seeing you eat 16 and a half bowls was disgusting. I sriously considered killing you.Okita: You're horrible! Besides then I'd bleed Kudzu snacks!Sei: NOO! STOP!!! I CAN SEE IT!! I'LL HAVE NIGHTMARES!!”

“Jace perched on the windowsill and looked down at him. "You really don't get this bodyguard thing, do you?""I didn't even think you liked me all that much," said Simon. "Is this one of those keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer things?""I thought it was keep your friends close so you have someone to drive the car when you sneak over to your enemy's house a night and throw up in his mailbox.""I'm pretty sure that's not it”

“Rosie had to keep her room neat enough so James would not freak out, but not so neat that they could figure it all out, break the code, of who you truly were, what you were up to, your values, your truest parts. ... you were layer upon layer of ideas and erasures and new ideas and soul and images. [p. 68]”