“In the bottom right-hand corner was a decent-sized color photo of Mr. and Mrs. Carl Trudeau posing with their new acquisition. Brianna, ever photogenic, as she damned well be, emanated glamour. Carl looked rich, thin, and young, he thought, and Imelda was as baffling in print as she was in person. Was she really a work of art? Or was she just a hodgepodge of bronze and cement thrown together by some confused soul working hard to appear tortured?”

“Niniane gave the Vampyre a lopsided smile then looked at her hands. She couldn't possibly tell Carling that she thought the Vampyre was something precious and horrific, an enigmatic tragedy like the ruins of a historic battlefield.”

“Well, well,” she murmurs as I back away.She makes a rectangle with her index fingers and thumbs and looks at my skin through it.“You’re right,” she says. “The boy’s a living work of art.”

“She looks like a very young old person, or a very old young person; but then, she's looked that way ever since she was two.”

“Woodward said that he had told no one the name of Deep Throat.Mrs. Graham paused. 'Tell me,' she said.Woodward froze. He said he would give her the name if she wanted. He was praying she wouldn't press it. Mrs. Graham laughed, touched his arm and said she was only kidding, she didn't really want to carry that burden around with her. Woodward took a bite of his eggs, which were cold.-- Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward”

“I'm not calling you that," she announced flatly. "It's too weird. I'm going to call you Carl." "I don't want you to call me Carl." "That's interesting, Carl," said Angela, cheering up.”