“I’m itching for battle—with a mosquito bite. The only thing in life I’ll scratch at more is the need to be loved. I’m so bloody needy.”

“I’ve just begun to scratch the surface of my talent, and boy does my talent itch. It’s like a red mosquito bite the size of Mars.”

“I stitched an itch to my side. As far as surgeries go, I’m just barely scratching the surface.”

“My fingernail itches. I need to scratch it with my skin.”

“I’m more terrified of failure than rejection—so I’ll no my way to YES!”

“The Trader held the ring horizontal and let the fingertips of his right hand circle over it. As he did so, he closed his eyes, murmured something to himself, and was silent again. His eyes remained closed; he did not move. "What's he doing?" whispered Walker.Soledad shrugged her shoulders. "Something terribly powerful.""Wrong." replied the Trader. "I'm concentrating on the mosquito bite on my left heel, so it will stop itching.""Oh," Walker said seriously."Mosquito bite?" Soledad repeated."I can't catch ghosts if my foot is itching. I beg you for a little more understanding.""But of course," Walker said spitefully.”