“Sleeping in a tinfoil suit keeps me warmer and helps prepare me for my voyage to the moon. Would you care for some licorice?”

“I make a habit of setting aside some time each evening to take out my knitting and work quietly on it, happily relaxing. I believe that it prepares me for sleep and washes away the cares of my day.I will consider that intarsia, or Fair Isle with three or more colors in a row, prepares nobody for sleep and cursing loudly while flinging knitting around the living room is about as far away from soothing as you can get.”

“My computer set-up is crazy. I have wireless set up on my iMac, aimed at a router, which itself is perfectly angled at another router, which in turn is angled at a sofa covered in tinfoil to bounce the signal to the original source. If you want to sit on that couch, you’d better be wearing a reflective astronaut suit, or at least a spaghetti strainer on your head. It reminds me of something Zelda told me: “The only thing tinfoil should cover is a Kiss. But you wouldn’t know anything about kissing.”

“I can teach you how to defend yourself some. Not" - he held her gaze - "that it will always keep you safe. There are times when no amount of training will stop what others would do.""So why..." She let the question drift away."Because it helps me sleep at night, because it helps me focus, because sometimes I like knowing that maybe if I were in danger again it would help."He kissed her forehead."And sometimes because it gives me hope that it'll make me strong enough to be loved and protect the one I would try to love.”

“If my skin wasn’t flesh, but was tinfoil, I’d probably not only be left-handed, but I’d be a leftover. I guess the real question is, Would you rather make love to me or make dinner?”

“Be prepared,' that's my motto." He smiled smugly at me. "That, and 'Sleep whenever possible.' Oh, and 'If you don't notice it's gone, what's the harm in me taking it?”