“I shuddered at the mention of Mrs. Steiger."What's that about?" Ranger asked."Mrs. Steiger is the Antichrist.""Damn," Ranger said. "I left my Antichrist gun at home.""Looks like you brought everything else.""Never know when you'll need some tear gas.""If we have to gas Mrs. Steiger, it"ll ruin my chances of being Miss Burg in the Mayflower parade.”

“Is there anything else you need from me?" Ranger asked."Not right now.""There will come a time," Ranger said. "Let me know when." And he disconnected.I opened the freezer and stuck my head in to cool off. If there'd been any more innuendo in that conversation, I could have fried an egg on my forehead.”

“Where have you been, Theodora?," Mrs Goodman asked."Walking, Mother.""And whom did you see?"Mrs Goodman flung her grammar like a stone."I did not see a cat," said Theodora.Mrs Goodman looked at her daughter, who giggled before she left the room.”

“A comedy isn't about being funny," said Mrs. Baker. "We talked about this before.""A comedy is about character who dare to know that they may choose a happy ending after all. That's how I know.""Suppose you can't see it?""That's the daring part," said Mrs. Baker.”

“There's always a piece of unfinished work left,' said Mrs. Lynde, with tears in her eyes. 'But I supposed there's always some one to finish it.”

“It was 1976.It was one of the darkest days of my life when that nurse, Mrs. Shimmer, pulled out a maxi pad that measured the width and depth of a mattress and showed us how to use it. It had a belt with it that looked like a slingshot that possessed the jaw-dropping potential to pop a man's head like a gourd. As she stretched the belt between the fingers of her two hands, Mrs. Shimmer told us becoming a woman was a magical and beautiful experience.I remember thinking to myself, You're damn right it had better be magic, because that's what it's going to take to get me to wear something like that, Tinkerbell! It looked like a saddle. Weighed as much as one, too. Some girls even cried.I didn't.I raised my hand."Mrs. Shimmer," I asked the cautiously, "so what kind of security napkins do boys wear when their flower pollinates? Does it have a belt, too?"The room got quiet except for a bubbling round of giggles."You haven't been paying attention, have you?" Mrs. Shimmer accused sharply. "Boys have stamens, and stamens do not require sanitary napkins. They require self control, but you'll learn that soon enough."I was certainly hoping my naughty bits (what Mrs. Shimmer explained to us was like the pistil of a flower) didn't get out of control, because I had no idea what to do if they did.”