“I didn't think he was a very 'nice' person,' says Chichilnisky [about Jeff Bezos]. 'I liked him, but he was not warm. I'm not criticising him, not a bit. It was like he could be a Martian for all I knew. A well-meaning, nice Martian.”

“Guess what Jeff found in his cabin for me," Grete says, "another book by the Martian Chronicle guy." "Ray Bradburrow", Jeff says. Bradbury, I think. "Yeah, right, Something Wicked This Way Comes," Grete says, "It's good". She chirps the last bit as if that were all to say about a book. It's good or it's bad, I liked it or I didn't. No discussions of the writing, the themes, the nuances, the structure. Just good or bad - like a hot dog.”

“Today I'm on tell you bout a man from outer space." She just loves hearing about peoples from outer space. Her favorite show on the tee-vee is My Favorite Martian, I pull on my antennae hats I shaped last night out a tin foil, fasten em on our heads. One for her and one for me. We look like we a couple a crazy people in them things."One day, a wise Martian come down to Earth to teach us people a thing or two," I say."Martian? How big?""oh, he about six-two.""What's his name?""Martian Luther King."She take a deep breath and lean her head down on my shoulder. I feel her three-year-old heart racing against mine, flapping like butterflies on my white uniform."He was a real nice Martian, Mister King. Looked just like us, nose, mouth, hair up on his head, but sometime people looked at him funny and sometime, well, I guess sometime people was just downright mean."I coul get in a lot a trouble telling her these little stories, especially with Mister Leefolt. But Mae Mobley know these our "secret stories"."Why Aibee? Why was they so mean to him?" she ask."Cause he was green.”

“Jane, last night was” — he raked a hand through his hair — “nice.” Her expression could only be described as crestfallen. “No,”he hurried to say. “Don’t look like that! I didn’t mean ‘nice.’ In fact, it wasn’t nice at all.” Her brows lowered. “No?” “No.I mean, yes! Yes, it was nice, but it was also very, very—” He tried with all of his might to grasp a word that would encompass that heart - pounding exertion that even now was making his balls hum,but to his horror, he heard himself say once again,“ —nice. But really, really, really nice.”

“Aunt Fanny tells me you made great friends with Mr. Mottram. I'm sure he can't be very nice.''I don't think he is,' said Julia. 'I don't know that I like nice people”

“Can you tell me where to find Tobias'? I ask. When I imagine his face, affection for him bubbles up inside of me and all I want to do is kiss him. 'Four, I mean. He's so handsome, isn't he? I don't really understand why he likes me so much. I'm not very nice, am I?'-Tris”