“It is a truth universally acknowledged," Mustardseed said, flying in lazy loops like an intoxicated bumblebee, "that a fairy in possession of a good appetite must be in want of pie.”

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a fairy in possesion of a good appetite must be in want of pie.”

“You're a little tall to play Ariel." said Moth."And you have way too many muscles," said Mustardseed."But you might be able to pull it off," Cobweb said, "if you can look really constipated.”

“You didn't just write the play, Bertie," Peaseblossom said suddenly. "You ordered the Players about, shouted, and threw an artistic hissy fit. Do you know what that makes you?" "A temperamental fusspot?" Mustardseed guessed. "Crazier than a bag full of crazy?" Moth said. "Close," Peaseblossom said. "It makes her a Director.”

“About the time he threatened her nose with his finger, Peaseblossom lost her grip on the situation with the boys. The door crashed open, and three irate fairies launched themselves at the Stage Manager. Cobweb and Moth pelted him with sequins while Mustardseed rammed beads into his ears."Dance!" they commanded, and dance he did, hopping with impotent anger and pain from one foot to the other as he batted his meaty hands at them.”

“Mustardseed grinned at Bertie. "I was never any good at geometry, but you’re stuck in a love triangle, aren’t you?""Shut up," she ordered even as Moth asked, "But what if there were four of them?""That’s a love rectangle, and five people would be a love pentagon.""And what are six people in love?" Cobweb demanded.Mustardseed thought it over a moment. "Manslaughter, I suppose.”

“This is a theater," Bertie, annoyed by the inquisition, dropped him onto stage. Several feet of slack cable landed atop the fairy in a slithering heap."Oh!" Peaseblossom said. "You've buried him alive!”