“Mom," said Peter, "nobody thinks you're a lackwit, if that's what you're worried about."Lackwit? In what musty drawer of some dead English professor's dust-covered desk did you find that word? I assure you that never in my worst nightmares did I ever suppose that I was a lackwit.”

“You're not looking for a partner," Ranger said. "You're looking for an enforcer. You hate to run. You must be worried about getting into that black dress. What did you eat just now? Piece of cake? Candy bar?" "Everything," I said. "I just ate everything.”

“You're the one with almost an MBA," Barry, the short balding one, said to Lash."You should know what to do.""They don't cover what to do with a dead hooker," Lash countered. "That's a wholedifferent program. Political science, I think.”

“Hello, Ben. I'm your cousin Jacen.""I know you." You went away when I was two. Did you find it?"Some of it""So you're going back?""No. What I haven't found, I doubt I ever will." ―Jacen and Ben”

“I depended on you....You're older, you're supposed to be my...my archive. That's what sisters do, remember for each other.”

“That's not such a bad thing,' he said to me. 'In nightmares we can think the worst. That's what they're for, I guess.”