“Why do you work so hard to make yourself disliked? I should think you'd find it happens enough on its own without putting yourself to any extra trouble.”
“I have something to tell you.""How, you have something to tell me?""You have understood me exactly.""Well, I am listening.""Listening? Then, you wish me to tell you?""Yes, that is it. I am listening, and therefore I wish you to tell me.""Shall I tell you now?""No.”
“You may borrow them, if you wish," so I could avoid letting him startle me."I'd like that very much.""I should warn you, however, that I have several volumes devoted to curses for people who don't return books.""I'd like to borrow those, too.”
“When I say that life is like an onion, I mean this: if you don't do anything with it, it goes rotten. So far, that's no different from other vegetables. But when an onion goes bad, it can either do it from the inside, or the outside. So sometimes you see one that looks good, but the core is rotten. Other times, you can see a bad spot on it, but if you cut that out, the rest is fine. Tastes sharp, but that's what you paid for, isn't it?”
“...As we locked the front door behind us, she said, "How do you keep getting in without my knowing it? Did Jill give you a key without mentioning it to me?""Trade secret," I said."What trade is that? Cat burglar?""Yes, although I prefer the technical term.""What's that?""Music promoter.”
“There was a sergeant at a desk. I knew he was a sergeant because I recognized the marks on his uniform, and I knew it was a desk because it's always a desk. There's always someone at a desk, except when it's a table that functions as a desk. You sit behind a desk, and everyone knows you're supposed to be there, and that you're doing something that involves your brain. It's an odd, special kind of importance. I think everyone should get a desk; you can sit behind it when you feel like you don't matter.”