“Now he was nothing to her, just a lesson in time, a wicked boy-man, incapable of wealth or prestige.”

“Mothers are odd things. We're quick to think of their nurturing aspects, but there is also some sort of strange darkness there. It tends to be much stronger in connection with sons than with daughters. It's easy for a mother to cross an invisible line and enslave a son with kindness. There's nothing more revolting than a man incapable of slipping his mother's apron strings. He will always revert back to a boy in her presence. I see boys with unnatural attachments to their mothers all the time. It's a sign of the times in which no one ever grows up. We live in soft times.”

“Anna," he said for the fourth time, as if there was nothing more to say, now that she'd finally answered. Nothing but her name. As if he'd just called to make sure she existed.”

“How old are you Johnny" she asked.Sixteen."And what's that-a boy or a man?"He laughed. "A boy in time of peace and a man in time of war.”

“Well . . ." St. Vincent walked slowly with her to the crowd of dancers. "I'm a wicked man who can, on occasion, be just a bit nice. And I've been searching for a nice girl who can, on occasion, be just a bit wicked.”

“I thought it was her wicked stepmother who poisoned her...''...Turned out the wicked stepmother had an alibi.''...Seems she was off poisoning someone else at the time. Chance in a million, really. It was just bad luck.”