“I have no idea what that is, but yawn, anyway, just on principle. Eat up. Pancakes is brain food.Apparently not grammar food.Wow.You college girls are mean.”

“Dr. Jules Hilbert: Hell Harold, you could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind in a choice between pancakes and living chooses pancakes?Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led... and, of course, the quality of the pancakes. ”

“An apple’s core principle it to not get eaten. And who wants to eat the core of an apple anyway?”

“I want pancakes.”“What? Right now?”“No. For breakfast.”“Oh.” He yawned. “You’d better get up early then.”“Me? I’m not going to make them.”“Yeah?” His sleepy voice carried mock sympathy. “Who’s going to make them for you then?”“You are.”“Am I? You think I’m going to make you pancakes? Is that how you think it’s going to be?""You’re so good at,” I whined. “Besides, if you do, I’ll sit on the counter in a short robe while you cook.” His soft laughter segued into another yawn. “Oh. Well then.” He kissed my ear again. “Maybe I’ll make you pancakes.”

“That's what they should teach us here. How girls' brains work… It would be more useful than divination, anyway…”

“Well, what I don't understand is why people get all dressed up and drive to church so they can sit there and get scolded. Seems to me it'd be a whole lot easier for the to just stay home in their pj's, eat pancakes, and get yelled at over the radion.”