“Look dude, no humping the redhead until we see if the rabbit dies.”

“You know what Munny said to me, right before we left? She said, ‘Watching someone die is hard work. Go to Australia and watch Faye fall in love with some dude named Rabbit. That should be fun.”

“I was minding my own buisness long before you and the princess started humping like rabbits.”

“Sometimes, we have to change the way we see things in order to see the way they truly are. We have to look at all the angles and cracks and crevices until we know what it is we’re looking at. And we can’t stop until we see it all!”

“Do not blame me, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin blinked, managing to sound bored and indignant at the same time. “I was minding my own business long before you and the princess started humping like rabbits.”

“My earliest recollection is of coming upon some rabbit tracks in the backyard snow. I must have been three or so, but I had never seen a rabbit and can still recall the feeling of being completely captivated by the tracks: Someone had been here. And he left these prints. And he was alive. And he lived somewhere nearby, maybe even watching me at this very moment. Four decades later, I do not need to be reminded that rabbits are often a nuisance to farmers and gardeners. My point is that when you look at a rabbit and can see only a pest, or vermin, or a meal, or a commodity, or a laboratory subject, you aren't seeing the rabbit anymore. You are seeing only yourself and the schemes and appetites we bring to the world--seeing, come to think of it, like an animal instead of as a moral being with moral vision.”