“Hey!" Sam snapped, ducking the sticky shrapnel. "Keep your snot to yourself."Dev scoffed at that. "Oh, so now you don't want to touch me, huh?" He tsked. "What is it with women? the instant you put a little slime on them, they get squeamish and have no more use for you.”

“We have a Daimon walk into the bar in broad daylight, and now a demon sliming Dev. I don´t know about you, but that doesn´t seem coincidental to me.”“I agree. Snot funny.”

“Hey, what are you doing, little one? You want more? You are just too much . . . you . . . oh, no . . . not the quivering lip . . . oh, no.” Nalla let out a giggle. “Outrageous! You want more, and you know you’re going to get what you want because of The Lip. Jeez, you’ve got your father wrapped around your little finger, don’t you.”

“You ought to get out more. You know, Pérol, we should go out some evening, just you and me. Otherwise, you lose touch with reality. You know what I mean? You lose your sense of reality, and hey presto, you don't know which shelf you left your soul on. The shelf where you put your friends. The shelf where you put your women. Stage right, stage left. Or in the shoebox. You turn around and you find you're stuck in the bottom drawer, with the accessories.”

“I thought I made it clear that I was a sure thing, but he left without getting any."Maybe Hector's holding out for a better deal, Sam."That never occurred to me. "Negotiating?"You negotiated with all your other dominants. You call it power exchange. Use your power."I ducked my head. "I don't have any power."Then what the hell are you exchanging?”

“Hey, Weenie Samdini!" Henry Farmer called as he waited to get on the school bus Sam would have been taking. "Why don't you do a magic trick and make yourself grow so you can k-k-kiss Stutter-girl?""It's frightening to think that one day his vote will count as much as yours or mine," Sam mused.”