“On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes.  “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.”

“Give me the knife!"Simon held out his hand. Lincoln glanced over as he struggled with Albert. "Could you take it out of your hand first?" he said. Simon gritted his teeth and pulled the knife out.”

“Death to all modifiers, he declared one day, and out of every letter that passed through his hands went every adverb and every adjective.”

“The instructor stared at me with cold, cut-me-no-slack determination, then got into a fighting stance, holding one hand out, beckoning me."I saw that movie too!"I said."It was like the coolest movie of all-"He launched himself at me.That was when his day really went downhill.”

“He's got hands so long and white and dainty I think they carved each other out of soap, and sometimes they get loose and glide around in front of him free as two white birds until he notices them and traps them between his knees; it bothers him that he's got pretty hands.”

“He brought the knife down. Helplessly, Nicholas watched it head for his chest, but before but before it got there, a hand flew out of nowhere to meet it. The knife passed through the hand like it was water, but the the hilt jammed into the palm, trapping it an inch before the knife point could pierce Nicholas's chest. Albert turned in confusion to see Simon standing there with the knife clear through his hand. He looked too amazed to feel the pain."Simon? But your useless," Albert said, shocked."I'm just as surprised as you are," Simon replied,”