“Felicity, felicity - how shall I say it? - is quaffed out of a golden cup in every latitude: the flavour is with you - with you alone, and you can make it as intoxicating as you please.”

“Every golden age is as much a matter of disregard as of felicity.”

“You’re so naïve.” Felicity laughed scornfully. “Don’t you see what people are? They’re animals. Every one of them.”“Felicity.” Waverly grabbed hold of the girl’s hand and squeezed hard enough to hurt, until Felicity lifted her eyes to Waverly’s. “We’re animals, too. We can fight back.”Felicity yanked her hand away. “You idiot. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight.”“It matters to me,” Waverly said quietly.“So fight, then,” Felicity spat over her shoulder.Waverly stood up, fists clenched. “I will.”

“He's attracted to the smell of manure," Felicity says. "You might wallow in the stables to bring out the full flower of his love.”

“But I tell you this, that man is certainly a devil out to ruin some poor woman this night. (Felicity)Well, if he be the devil, you can chain me to his throne anytime. (Heather)”

“Felicity grimaced in agreement. “No, you are perfectly correct. I did not realize how vital the approbation of one’s butler is in allowing for nocturnal autonomy.”