“Champagne, always champagne. Make mine Veuve-Clicquot.”

“What the hell's wrong with mimosas?' Aphrodite was saying. 'Orange juice is for breakfast.''What about the champagne part? That's alcohol,' Stevie Rae said.'It's pink Veuve Clicquot. That means its good champagne, which cancels out the alcohol part,”

“Mine, ... Mine is what she is. ”

“Think champagne, drink champagne!”

“Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.”

“This isn't champagne anymore. We went through the champagne a long time ago. This is serious stuff. The days of champagne are long gone.”

“Too much champagne?” “Maybe.” “Silly girl,” she said, looping her arm through mine. “There’s no such thing as too much champagne. Though your head will try to tell you otherwise tomorrow.”