“You know, Aunt Tasha makes jokes about how youʹd actually be a better queen than the others, except sometimes . . . I donʹt think sheʹs joking.”
“She probably thought I was making a dumb joke, but sometimes history sounded like a dumb joke. History was either a dumb joke or a cruel joke.”
“You making jokes about my illness? Not funny. Me making jokes about my illness? Funny.”
“Ah, Signor Halt,' he said uncertainly, 'you are making a joke, yes?''He is making a joke, no,' Will said. 'But he likes to think he is making a joke, yes.”
“Carlos, are we in complete understanding with each other?”“Yeah,” I say. “As long as it’s not in your house and you don’t know about it, you’re okay with us messin’ around.”“I know you’re joking with me. You are joking with me, aren’t you?”“Maybe.”
“Actually, being married to me probably would be something of a joke . . . but yeah, I mean it. What do you think?”