“Rafael, the Rat King, stared at the carnage with black-button eyes. "She is dead.""Ding dong, the witch is dead,”

“Katherine -I wondered if this was how Dorothy felt when she woke up in Oz with all the little people squawking ding dong, the witch is dead.”

“Frank stared at her. "But you throw Ding Dongs at monsters."Iris looked horrified. "Oh, they're not Ding Dongs."She rummaged under the counter and brought out a package of chocolate covered cakes that looked exactly like Ding Dongs. "These are gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulations.""All natural!" Fleecy chimed in."I stand corrected." Frank suddenly felt as queasy as Percy.”

“Oui, oui, he snapped with an obvious lack of awe. "Ding dong the demon's dead, now can we admireour delightful handiwork someplace where the ceiling is not about to cave in and your oh-so-handsomevampire is not about to become a dust bunny? (Levet)”

“And of the Witch? In the life of a Witch, there is no "after", in the "ever after" of a Witch there is no "happily"; in the story of a Witch, there is no afterword. Of that part that is beyond the life story, beyond the story of the life, there is-alas, or perhaps thank mercy-no telling. She was dead, dead, and gone, and all that was left of her was the carapace of her reputation for malice.”

“The mad King, the bad King, the sad King. Ring-a-ding-ding, all hail the King!”