“Maybe I didn't try as hard as I ought when he started calling you names. Serves him right, the nasty old turd. Punch him again, Moth" - Peaseblossom”

“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.”

“She's under duress," Peaseblossom said."I don't care if she's under duress, over it, or alongside it," Moth said. "Nothing in this world supersedes cake.”

“Ariel contributed nothing to the speculation, instead crossing his arms one over the other. The action recalled his butterfly familiars from the skies, and they flocked to him with eager wing beats."Bats!" Moth flailed at the air. "Vampire bats!""Don't be ridiculous," Peaseblossom said with a sniff. "Vampire bats don't sparkle.”

“Bertie, the boys are trying to eat my boyfriend!' - Peaseblossom”

“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.”

“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!”