“Her face was one of a kind, a surprising variation that made observers think, Yes--that would be another very nice way for people to look.”

“Her face ... was a one-of-a-kind, a surprising variation on a familiar theme - a variation that made observers think, Yes - that would be another very nice way for people to look. What Beatrice had done with her face, actually, was what any plain girl could do. She overlaid it with dignity, suffering, intelligence, and a piquant dash of bitchiness.”

“I’m sure you think you’re a very nice guy, but from where I’m sitting at the moment all I see is an asshole. Yes, you’re a very good-looking asshole, with a great body and handsome face and nice tan and all that, but do you know what the best thing about assholes is? When they keep quiet and go away.”

“Oh - that family, yes. There are still some photos of them around here. They look like nice people, don't they?"They...'look like nice people'?"Well, they do, don't they? Of course, they never actually existed - except maybe in the most tenuous and retrospective way - but still, it's nice to think they were good people."Uh. Right. Gee, I suppose you must do a lot of drugs.”

“Jane, last night was” — he raked a hand through his hair — “nice.” Her expression could only be described as crestfallen. “No,”he hurried to say. “Don’t look like that! I didn’t mean ‘nice.’ In fact, it wasn’t nice at all.” Her brows lowered. “No?” “No.I mean, yes! Yes, it was nice, but it was also very, very—” He tried with all of his might to grasp a word that would encompass that heart - pounding exertion that even now was making his balls hum,but to his horror, he heard himself say once again,“ —nice. But really, really, really nice.”

“Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.”