“It’s just as well,” she thought. “If I told them what I really think, they’d shit roses.”

“I never asked her how she was, because I didn't really think about how she was. I just thought about what she thought of me.”

“It’s just as well I switched hands: Witches are thought to be left-handed. Perhaps it’s true. Rose is no witch and she uses her right hand. We are mirror twins, she and I. What’s left for me is right for her; and if I wanted to feel sorry for myself, I might say nothing’s right for me.”

“She was doing that thing some people do when they act nice and chipper and interested, while just below the surface they’re thinking really mean thoughts, and you can never call them on it because they’d just accuse you of being paranoid.”

“she doesn’t really have a sense of humor. I think she’d like to have one—it’s just that she doesn’t quite understand what jokes are for.”

“People called her wild, but she wasn't. Not really. She just didn't give a shit what they thought. Maybe that was what they found so unforgivable in the end.”