“Mary Jane she set at the head of the table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried chickens was—and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, and said so—said 'How do you get biscuits to brown so nice?' and 'Where, for the land's sake, did you get these amaz'n pickles?' and all that kind of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a supper, you know.”

“How did you do that?” Mr. Poe asked. “Nice girls shouldn’t know how to do such things.”“My sister is a nice girl,” Klaus said, “and she knows how to do all sorts of things.”

“That's just how it is, you know," she said. "Women always choose men over other women.”

“Life is so freaking hard. How do people do it? How do people get up every day and deal with the shit? It really makes you understand why there are so many messed-up people in the world. I mean, it's tough, trying to deal with demands coming at you from all sides.”

“Do you know what they call themselves, all these people?" Alyss shook her head. How could she know? "Alyssians." Bibwit spelled it out. Her heart gave a little jump. Alyssians? No, they ask too much of me. "I don't think I'm ready for all of this," she said.”

“I'm not that nice," I said. People were always telling me how nice I was. You'd think it would be a compliment, but it was amazing how sometimes it just felt like a kinder way of saying "blah." "I just keep my horrible side well hidden.”