“These things you know.” Scarlett shook her head in a mock amazement. “Where do you get all this stuff from ” “Books you know the things made from words printed on paper and bound together. Im sure you must have seen one even if you’ve never opened one ” Max said. “Ha ha very funny ” Scarlett said. Hannah found she had remembered how to smile.”

“Then she probably would have waved back," Max said. "And it might be a he.""Ha! Not likely," Lucia said. "Didn't you notice them?""Them what?" Max asked."Her... you know. She has breasts, Max! What do you think that is on her chest?""I think it's a pair of crossed arms," Max said.”

“You are treating that thing as if it is a great treasure," he said. Well, yeah. Because it was. "You have something against cookies?""I couldn't say, as I have never had one."Wait. What? "Never, as in never?""Is there another meaning for the word never that I don't know about?"Ha, ha. "But that's criminal!""Hardly.""But...why haven't you tasted one?""Because I choose to consume only foods that will strengthen me.""I'm not sure you realize how ridiculous you sound."-Annabelle and Zacharel”

“How do you know that?""Because,"Chong said with raised eyebrows,"when you open those things called 'books',there are words as well as pictures.Sometimes the words tell you stuff.”

“I told you,” Harry was saying to Ben. “I warned you. As soon as I saw her from distance, do you remember what I said to you?”“Yes, yes. You said she was trouble. You where wrong there, and you’re wrong now.”“Benjamin, I know about these things. She is trouble.”“You know nothing except the idiocy you glean from your insipid books that tell you nothing about life. You don’t know how to live.”“And you do?”“Yes, I do. She is no trouble. She is Life!”Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens. “More fool you. How else do you define trouble?”“Like a femme fatale,” Ben said.“Give her time, Benjamin. She is a fille fatale. Quattordici indeed!”Ben moved away from mocking Harry, his shoulders dropping.”

“I begin to think,' said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment of calm wonder, 'that I almost understand how this comes about. If you had brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of these rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as the daylight by which she has never once seen your face―if you had done that, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to understand the daylight and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and angry? . . .'Or,' said Estella, '―which is a nearer case―if you had taught her, from the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and might, that there was such a thing as daylight, but that it was made to be her enemy and destroyer, and she must always turn against it, for it had blighted you and would else blight her―if you had done this, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she could not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry? . . .'So,' said Estella, 'I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”