“What's past is prologue, and the world awaits.”

“A cupcake temple?' Her chest still tight with anxiety, Bertie forced herself to imagine it: bricks of pound cake mortared with buttercream and chocolate ganache, torches like striped birthday candles set into the walls, pilgrims upon the Path of Delectable Righteousness delivering daily tributes of almond paste and raspberry filling. . . .”

“Words are like the delicate stitches in the dress you wear, holding the fabric of the garmet together. Without them, the dress and the world are nothing but barren cloth”

“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.”

“What color is pandemonium? It sounds yellow.”

“What a diva!""Stupid, men can't be divas...""Divo, then.""That just sounds weird. Call him a jerk and be done with it.”

“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.”