“I want you to picture me as a cute little anime character that popped out from behind a mushroom or something and landed in Hollywood.”

“That's you, right?' he asks me. 'Yeah.' 'Cute. Not that I, uh, think little kids are cute. Just that you were cute. I mean, you can see how you turned out to be so...oh.”

“Let me get this straight: You want to poison me nearly to death, put me out to the side of the road and then set me on fire, right?""...It sounded a lot better when we were out in the mushroom patch.""Those must have been SOME mushrooms!"--Reggie Sinclair and The Witches in Training from Angela's Coven.”

“I have no affinity for animals. I don’t hate animals and I would never hurt an animal; I just don’t actively care about them. When a coworker shows me cute pictures of her dog, I struggle to respond correctly, like an autistic person who has been taught to recognize human emotions from flash cards. In short, I am the worst.”

“You're cute, but..."He steps away from me, and I can breathe again. "Cute?" he spits. "For centuries women have wanted me, desired me. Royals requested me by name, and you think I am cute?”

“You decent?” I pulled the towel up a little higher. “Yes, if my wrinkled toes don’t offend.” Marco’s swarthy head popped around the doorjamb. “Naw, they’re cute.”