“Looking back few friends had webut I've got him and he's got me.And when the golden minute comeswhen we no longer wake to smellthe river where the wild swans sailedthe orchard where the blossoms fell,we'll smile a little thinkin' of that.Me in my shirt-tails, him with his whiskersme and the cat.”

“Sophie was fine up until the point where she fell flat on her face when she got a look at my delicious abs,” he said and pulled up his shirt rubbing his chiseled stomach.I blushed and then mocked him, “Delicious huh?”“Oh yeah,” he said jokingly. “My basement floor is now flooded with your drool.”-Caeden and Sophie”

“I walked into school and saw this kid wearing the same shirt that I had. I looked at him and said,"You stole my shirt!" I got in his face about it to the point where he started crying, but I was convinced he stole it! I remember and go, "Why was I so angry about that?" Even now when Kevin or Joe has taken one of my shirts I think back and laugh!”

“The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow."I've got to go back, haven't I?""That is up to you.""I've got a choice?""Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train.""And where would it take me?""On," said Dumbledore simply.”

“I ain't sayin' I'm like Jesus," the preacher went on. "But I got tired like Him, an' I got mixed up like Him, an' I went into the wilderness like Him, without no campin' stuff. Nighttime I'd lay on my back an' look up at the stars; morning I'd set an' watch the sun come up; midday I'd look out from a hill at the rollin' dry country; evenin' I'd foller the sun down. Sometimes I'd pray like I always done. On'y I couldn' figure out what I was prayin' to or for. There was the hills, an' there was me, an' we wasn't separate no more. We was one thing. An' that one thing was holy...An' I got thinkin', on'y it wasn't thinkin', it was deeper down than thinkin'. I got thinkin' how we was holy when we was one thing, and' mankin' was holy when it was one thing. An' it on'y got unholy when mis'able little fella got the bit in his teeth an' run off his own way, kickin' and draggin' and fightin'. Fella like that bust the holiness. But when they're all workin' together, no one fella for another fella, but one fella kind of harnessed to the whole shebang -- that's right, that's holy. An' then I got to thinkin' I don't even know what I mean by holy...I can't say no grace like I use' ta say. I'm glad of the holiness of breakfast. I'm glad there's love here. That's all.”

“... and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.”