“Humanity, I’m sure I do not have to tell Your Grace, is a strange animal.”

“I do have some leftover chicken and pasta. (Grace)And wine?...That’s acceptable (Julian)Look, buster, I’m not your cooking wench. Mess with me and I’ll feed you Alpo. (Grace)”

“My nurture mother never would have reset me. And I was never a kit. Or a ‘female.’ I might be a non-human, but I’m not an animal. I’m a girl.”

“No, I’m done! I’m tired, I’m sweaty, I’m in agony, and why do I feel like I need to shit?”“It’s totally natural to feel that way,” said Grace in a placatory, calming voice. “Some women even have one during labor.”“What?” The word dripped with horror. “Women can shit when they’re in labor? Tell me that won’t happen to me! Don’t you let me shit, Grace!”

“If I’m not showing grace . . . have I forgotten the grace I’ve been shown?”

“I’m surprised a person with your experience in telling elaborate fables should have difficulty in thinking up such a simple tale, but I suppose it’s a different issue when you have to think quickly rather than spend time thoroughly developing your story.” “I’m sure that’s it,” she replied blithely, cutting her bacon into small bits.“I’m also sure that my skills will grow over time. I just need to practice, practice, practice. Did I ever tell you about the dragon I owned when I was a child?”