“King scratched at the door to be let out."Charlie snorted. "King obviously has a lot of stamina. I'd have been clawingat the door a lot sooner if I was trapped in a booth with Mark.""But Mark ignored him, so King... uh, pooped."Charlie grinned. "And then?""Mark yelled at him and scared him." Harry fought back a grin. "So Kingpooped again."Charlie's grin widened. "Mark is an idiot.""So then Mark waved the script at him, and King—""Pooped again." Charlie started to laugh."Then Marcia came in and threw a fit because of all the poop in the booth and because Mark was mistreating a puppy. She gave him ten minutes to get the booth clean, and she took the dog away from him.”

“I beat at him uselessly with my fists. I scream. My mind races. I'll pee on him. Puke, bite, scratch. Sure, I'll lose, but if he's going to mark me I am going to mark him, too, if such a thing is possible.”

“Someone else has to be disseminating it. (Mark)Dis-a what? (Nick)Disseminating. It means distributing it. (Mark)Then why didn’t you say that? (Nick)Remind me to get him a word-of-the-day calendar. (Mark)”

“Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,And all their ministers attend on him.”

“Jacob's little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing Charlie showing up to arrest him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn't the smile I'd been waiting to see.”

“What is the distinguishing mark of an aristocrat?' she asked him suddenly.'Reverence,' he replied.”