“Grampa took Mary Ellen inside away from the crowd. "Now, child, I am going to show you what my father showed me, and his father before," he said quietly. He spooned the honey onto the cover of one of her books. "Taste," he said, almost in a whisper. . . . "There is such sweetness inside of that book too!" he said thoughtfully. "Such things...adventure, knowledge and wisdom. But these things do not come easily. You have to pursue them. Just like we ran after the bees to find their tree, so you must also chase these things through the pages of a book!”

“[Honey is sweet] and so is knowledge, but knowledge is like the bee that made that sweet honey, you have to chase it through the pages of a book.”

“Is it like a Harry Potter thing?" He turned his head then. "A what?""A Harry Potter thing," she said again. "You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention?"He considered it. "You mean the children's book.""I have got to get you to watch more movies," she said. "You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the children's book.”

“He said you were frigid?” She nodded. “Oh, honey, that word should be stricken from every dictionary in existence. There is no such thing. Just men who don’t know what they’re doing.” He leaned toward her, kissed her throat, and said, “I’m not one of them.”

“I can turn into a coyote," I said. "My mom tells me I must get it from my father."Calvin's jaw dropped, then his face froze. "Your mother was a white woman," he said urgently. "You can't turn into a coyote.""Can, too," I said indignantly. It was one thing for me to tell him he was lying--I knew I was right. It was an entirely different matter for him to tell me I was lying."Can't.""Can.""Can't""Can, too.""Mercy," Adam said with an exaggerated patience tinged with humor. He knew I was doing it on purpose. That was okay but he wasn't angry anymore."Cannot," said Calvin."Knock it off, both of you. Neither of you is five.”

“Little things. The thought of losing them makes them unbearably dear ... I only think of the sweetness. Simple things. The quarter moon, the taste of an orange. The smell of the pages of a new book.”

“You’d have to go through at least four different hugs to get from the kitchen to the front room. Those relatives!’.”