“Thees and thous taunted her, but like a child, she ignored the writing and focused on the pretty pictures.”

“She can paint a pretty picture but this story has a twist. The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.”

“„It's really all about focus and control. Clear your mind and think about the plant. Don't over think it. Picture green and pretty.”Kale scrunched up his nose and cringed away.„It's not pretty. It looks like a weed. And it smells bad.”

“She is prettier than her picture had prepared me for, blond curls, big blue eyes, like a fake child that someone would make in order to convince people to have children.”

“Perhaps thee will best understand what Abigail is like if I tell thee that when she quilts she prefers to stitch in the ditch, hiding her poor stitches in the seams between the blocks.”

“If thou art indeed my father, then hast thou stained thy sword in the life-blood of thy son. And thous didst it of thine obstinacy. For I sought to turn thee unto love, and I implored of thee thy name, for I thought to behold in thee the tokens recounted of my mother. But I appealed unto thy heart in vain, and now is the time gone for meeting.”