“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“Say ye love me.Even if its not true, let me keep th' words. -Nate to BertieTell me you love me, at least as much as you love him. -Ariel to Bertie”

“Seek out the company of those who will never ask you to jump," the earth advised.Bertie remembered the rush of feathers as she soared above the audience. "I can catch myself.""Of those whose love will never fill your lungs with water-" the earth argued."But it did not kill me.""there should be more to love," said the earth, "than 'it did not kill me.' More than 'I survived it.”

“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.”

“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.”