“I can't get it out," she said."Just pull at it.""It hurts. It's throbbing.""Pull harder.""I can't! It's truly stuck. I need something to make it slippery. Do you have some sort of lubricant nearby?""No.""Not anything?""Much as it may surprise you, we've never needed lubricant in the library before now.”

“He slitted his eyes open and squeezed them shut again as he saw her finger intruding deeper into the bottle. "Grows..."he forced himself to continue, "until the fruit is ripe.""They do? That is the cleverest...a pear in its own little...oh no.""What?" Marcus asked through clenched teeth."My finger's stuck."Dumbfounded, he looked down at the sight of Lillian tugging on her imprisoned finger."I can't get it out," she said."Just pull at it.""It hurts. It's throbbing." "Pull harder.""I can't! It's truly stuck. I need something to make it slippery. Do you have some sort of lubricant nearby?""No.""Not anything?""Much as it may surprise you, we've never needed lubricant in the library before now.”

“No," I said automatically, "don't do anything about Dad. You can't fix my relationship with him.""I can block or run interference.""Thanks, Jack, but I don't need blocking, and I really don't need any more interference."He looked annoyed. "Well, why did you waste all that time complaining to me if you didn't want me to do something about it?""I don't want you to fix my problems. I just wanted you to listen.""Hang it all, Haven, talk to a girlfriend if all you want is a pair of ears. Guys hate it when you give us a problem and then don't let us do something about it. It makes us feel bad. And then the only way to make ourselves feel better is to rip a phone book in two or blow something up. So let's get this straight — I'm not a good listener. I'm a guy.""Yes you are." I stood and smiled. "Want to buy me a drink at an after work bar?""Now you're talking," my brother said, and we left the office.”

“You've always been a know-it-all. Well, you're about to find out how much you don't know.""Believe me," I muttered, "I'm the first one to admit that I have no clue about any of this stuff. I had nothing to do with it. This isn't my baby.""Then give it to Social Services." She was getting agitated. "Whatever happens to him will be your fault, not mine. Get rid of him if you can't handle the responsibility.""I can handle it," I said, my voice quiet. "It's okay, Mom. I'll take care of him. You don't have to worry about anything."She subsided like a child who had just been mollified by a lollipop. "You'll have to learn the way I did," she said after a moment, reaching down to adjust her toe ring.A hint of satisfaction edged her tone as she added, "The hard way.”

“I can't see why you should want to dance with me now, when you never have before." The statement was more revealing than she had intended it to be. She cursed her own wayward tongue, while his speculative gaze wandered over her face."I wanted to," he surprised her by murmuring. "However, there always seemed to be good reasons not to.""Why--""Besides," Westcliff interrupted, reaching out to take her gloved hand, "there was hardly a point in asking when your refusal was a forgone conclusion." Deftly he pressed her hand to his arm and led her toward the mass of couples in the center of the room."It was not a forgone conclusion."Westcliff glanced at her skeptically. "You're saying that you would have accepted me?""I might have.""I doubt it.""I did just now, didn't I?""You had to. It was a debt of honor."She couldn't help but laugh. "For what, my lord?""The calf's head," he reminded her succinctly."Well, if you hadn't served such a nasty object in the first place, I wouldn't have needed to be rescued!""You wouldn't have need to be rescued if you didn't have such a weak stomach.""You're not supposed to mention body parts in front of a lady," she said virtuously. "Your mother said so."Westcliff grinned. "I stand corrected.”

“Lately I've become so damned distracted that I can't make a decision about anything. I can't think clearly. I've got knots in my stomach, and constant pains in my chest, and whenever I see you talking to any man, or smiling at anyone, I go insane with jealousy. I can't live this way. I—" He broke off and stared at her incredulously. "Damn it, Evie, what is there for you to smile about?""Nothing," she said, hastily tucking the sudden smile back into the corners of her mouth. "It's just… it sounds as if you're trying to say that you love me.”

“A few more minutes," he said stubbornly."No. I just spent the better part of a day sorting through garbage on your behalf. I have other stuff to do. Paid work. Unlike you, I can't survive on air."(Ghost to Alex)”