“The great irony of motherhood is that while you sometimes long for someone else to be in charge, it is next to impossible to mentally accept that reality.”

“They are seed-harvester ants, and while me versus one boy is totally manageable, me versus the pack of them is nearly impossible. Their hunger is a lightsaber, and I am no match for its power.”

“Nothing says I love you like processed food.”

“My boys don't always come home from school ready to dish about the day. But if I'm patient, little details will reveal themselves to me. When I check the pockets, I get a peek into my boys' minds, an idea of what they consider amazing and lovely--what they consider to be a thing of beauty. I feel lucky to get a glimpse of this beauty every day.”

“Great. "So not only am I not-human, but Death is my arch foe?" Who, me? Panic? "Anything else you want to tell me, while we're confessing?”

“Part of me wanted this more than anything else in the world—to have someone to hang out with, be like everyone else for a while. The rest of me screamed to get the hell out of there, not to get sucked in.”

“And anyway, considering that her mother dies and her boyfriend's spending a small fortune to get high off someone else's bad breath, I'd say Sophie's next in line for therapy.”