“You have a mother?"He quirked a brow. "Did you think mine was some sort of divine birth? My father was a remarkable man, but even he was not that talented.”

“There is a tiger in my room,' said Frances.'Did he bite you?' said Father.'No,' said Frances.'Did he scratch you?' said Mother.'No,' said Frances.'Then he is a friendly tiger,' said Father. 'He will not hurt you. Go back to sleep.”

“You really don’t like your father, do you?” He glowered. “Let’s just say he would have eaten me if my mother hadn’t been nearly dead from giving birth. She happened to be weaker at the time.”

“But the vicar of St. Botolph's had certainly escaped the slightest tincture of the Pharisee, and by dint of admitting to himself that he was too much as other men were, he had become remarkably unlike them in this - that he could excuse others for thinking slightly of him, and could judge impartially of their conduct even when it told against him. [from Middlemarch, a quote my mother thinks describes the kind of man my father was]”

“There is divine beauty in learning... To learn means to accept the postulate that life did not begin at my birth. Others have been here before me, and I walk in their footsteps. The books I have read were composed by generations of fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, teachers and disciples. I am the sum total of their experiences, their quests. And so are you.”

“Hey, no worries. I don't need to be on top." Pausing he quirked one brow outrageously before continuing smoothly. "I like to be on the bottom every now and again."Jules wondered if there were some sort of daily sexual innuendo quota he had to meet.”