“I’m not some three-hundred-year-old pervert who kisses teenage girls, okay?”

“You're a vampire." I laughed."Half," he came back, as if there was a huge difference. "My father wasn't a vampire. He was a Lamarliere. I'm not some three-hundred-year-old pervert who kisses teenage girls, okay? I'm the same age as you. Born just like you.”

“Elphaba gave him a sidelong glance. “I think you enjoy going to school, Nick. Are you sure canoodling with teenage girls isn’t your ulterior motive?”“Perish the thought, Elphaba, perish the thought. I’m too old for that.” Nick winked. “By about eight hundred years.”

“How old are you?" Isa gasped. Okay, so she hadn't gotten around to asking some things."One hundred and forty-three," Chance supplied, giving her a quick kiss. "But don't worry, darling. I don't feel a day over the century mark.”

“How did a child of ten find out about a three and a half hundred years old children's show?!”

“I'm a fifty-three-year-old writer who can remember being a ten-year-old writer and who expects someday to be an eighty-year-old writer.”