“You know I love you,' said the other mother flatly.'You have a very funny way of showing it,' said Coraline.”

“You know that I love you."And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew knew that the other mother loved her as a possession, nothing more, a tolerated pet whose behavior was no longer amusing.”

“I have no plans to love you," said Coraline. "No matter what. You can't make me love you.”

“What's your name,' Coraline asked the cat. 'Look, I'm Coraline. Okay?''Cats don't have names,' it said.'No?' said Coraline.'No,' said the cat. 'Now you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names.”

“How do I know you'll keep your word?" asked Coraline."I swear it," said the other mother. "I swear it on my own mother's grave.""Does she have a grave?" asked Coraline."Oh yes," said the other mother. "I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back.”

“Mother,” Hyacinth said with a great show of solicitude,“you know I love you dearly—”“Why is it,” Violet pondered, “that I have come to expectnothing good when I hear a sentence beginning inthat manner?”