“…and who are you, anyway?" "I'm Tina.” "Thank goodness!” I said so loudly she stepped back. "No silly-ass overdone names for you, m'girl.” "It's short for Christina Caresse Chavelle.” "Well, you did the best you could.”

“Getting back to the issue of the child," Tina said, harshing our buzz as visual, "I really think you should reconsider. He—"The phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at the caller ID."We're kind of busy," I said, a little sharply. The phone was a whole thing between Tina and me."But—""If it's important, they'll call back.""But it's your mother."I practically snarled. The phone, the fucking phone! People used it the way they used to use the cat-o'-nine-tails. You had to drop everything and answer the fucking thing. And God help you if you were home and, for whatever reason, didn't answer. "But I called!" Yeah, it was convenient for you so you called. But I'm in the shit because it wasn't convenient for me to drop everything and talk to you, on the spot, for whatever you needed to talk about.”

“I'm the wife of a king, and the mother of kings. And I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. So fuck off, Jack.- Queen Christina (The Royal Treatment)”

“It's nice to see you again, Laura.""Thank you, Mrs. T-""No, no, no. Please, my name is-""Mud," I suggested. "Mud Barfbag Taylor. Call her Asshat for short."~Laura, Antonia, Betsy”

“Crying's okay while it lasts, but you can only do it for so long. And it's weird to do it when you apparently can't make tears anymore (did this mean I wouldn't pee or sweat, either?). Anyway, eventually you're done, and you have to figure out what to do next.”

“I—I adore you, too. Well, I don't know if I adore you. That's not really the word I'd use. But I—I—" I managed to wrench it out. God, this was hard! "I love you.""Of course you do," he said, totally unsurprised."WHAT? I finally tell you my deepest, most personal feelings and you're all, 'Yeah, I already got that memo'? This, this is why you drive me nuts! This is why it's so hard to tell you things! I take it back.”

“Tina was kneeling before me, holding Donald's head by the hair and very plainly trying to hand it to me. "Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the indignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as—" "Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.”