“With hair, heels, and attitude, honey, I am through the roof.”

“I'm six foot four - hello. And with hair, heels, and attitude... I'm through the mother-freakin' roof!”

“Place a beehive on my grave and let the honey soak through, when I am dead and gone that's what I want from you. The streets of heaven are gold and sunny, but I'll stick with my plot and a pot of honey. Place a beehive on my grave and let the honey soak through.”

“Having been a demon curse, however brief, should leave a mark. A streak of silver hair, or bewitching eyes. Maybe crows on one's roof or a hound from hell at your heel. Blowing out my breath I stood and squinted at my reflection. A black eye. Swell.”

“Through the light splaying off the roof, Angela's falling blonde hair looked cream-colored, intricately stitched together like a veil.”

“And I’ll gaze across the chasm to the other side of the island, where I can still sometimes catch sight of a curly-haired urchin running joyously through the tall purple grass, her faithful dog at her heels.”