“You like them," I realized.Noah's eyebrows lifted in question."Like as people.""As opposed to...furniture?""They're my PARENTS.""That is my understanding, yes.”

“You think they liked me?''Sure they did. Who cares, though? They're just parents.''They're your parents,' he said, glancing over at me. 'Plus, I like being liked. Is that crazy?”

“I asked myself if I would kill my parents to save his life, a question I had been posing since I was fifteen. The answer always used to be yes. But in time, all those boys had faded away, and my parents were still there. I was now less and less willing to kill them for anyone; in fact, I worried for their health. In this case, however, I had to say yes. Yes, I would.”

“Andrew said you were the best person he ever knew.""He reached that conclusion before he saw me raise three barbarian children to adulthood. I understand your mother has six.""Right.""And you're the oldest.""Yes.""That's too bad. Parents always make their worst mistakes with the oldest children. That's when parents know the least and care the most, so they're more likely to be wrong and also more likely to insist that they're right.”

“Don’t threaten me with your eyebrows. I’m not. I’m interrogating you with my one raised eyebrow. If I was threatening you, I’d use both eyebrows. Like this.”

“People call me “Mustache,” because I have an eyebrow on my upper lip. When I close my lips it’s like a wink and a kiss combined. It’s like lust overload.”