“People were always saying to Margaret, 'Well, Julia sings and Betsy writes. Now what is little Margaret going to do?' Margaret would smile politely, for she was very polite, but privately she stormed to Betsy with flashing eyes, 'I'm not going to do anything. I want to just live. Can't people just live?”

“Margaret: Can I - can I just say something for the future? Leo: Yeah.Margaret: I can sign the President's name. I have his signature down pretty good. Leo: You can sign the President's name? Margaret: Yeah. Leo: On a document removing him from power and handing it to someone else? Margaret: Yeah! Or... do you think the White House Counsel would say that was a bad idea? Leo: I think the White House Counsel would say it was a coup d'etat! Margaret: Well. I'd probably end up doing some time for that. Leo: I would think. And what the hell were you doing practicing the President's signature? Margaret: It was just for fun.”

“Julia was as happy as Betsy was, almost. One nice thing about Julia was that she rejoiced in other people's luck.”

“Margaret looked up at him from where she sat by the window."Oh, Brother Gregory, what's wrong with your hand""I'm just scratching it; it itches.""Really, is it red?""No, it's just a bite. You gave me a flea.""I don't have fleas, Brother Gregory," insisted Margaret."Everyone has fleas, Margaret. It's part of God's plan.""I don't. I wash them off.""Margaret, you haven't any sense at all. They just hop back. You can't wash enough to keep them off.""I do.""Aren't you afraid your skin will come off? It could, you know. That's much worse than fleas." Brother Gregory spoke with an air of absolute certainty."Everyone tells me that. It hasn't come off yet.""Margaret, you're too hardheaded for your own good. Now take for your next sentence, 'Fleas do not wash off.'""Is this right?" She held up the tablet, and Brother Gregory shook his head in mock indignation."I despair of you, Margaret. Flea is not spelled with one e--it's spelled with two.”

“Oh! that look of love!" continued he, between his teeth, as he bolted himself into his own private room. "And that cursed lie; which showed some terrible shame in the background, to be kept from the light in which I thought she lived perpetually! Oh, Margaret, Margaret! Mother, how you have tortured me! Oh! Margaret, could you not have loved me? I am but uncouth and hard, but I would never have led you into any falsehood for me.”

“This was Betsy and Tacy's private corner. Betsy's mother was a great believer in people having private corners, and the piano box was plainly meant to belong to Betsy and Tacy, for it fitted them so snugly.”