“I'll take care of my mother," he said grimly. "I love her, but she doesn't run my life.""Yeah, that's what we all say. You. Me. Lucy." She stabbed the stick into the dirt. "These are powerful women. They're sane, they're smart, they rule their worlds, and they love us ferociously. A potent combination that makes it touch to pretend they're normal mothers.”

“So, I guess people figure it's not as hard to lose your mother when you never got along anyway. But they're wrong. They're dead wrong. It's always hard to lose your mother. Always. If you loved her, if you hated her. If she smothered you, if she ignored you. It doesn't matter. She's your mother. Your mother. That's just a very tough bond to break.”

“My mother always says people should be able to take care of themselves, even if they're rich and important.”

“My mother warned me about short, determined women," he said at last, clearing his throat. "Said they're are meaner than any other kind.”

“Why keep in touch with them? That's what I want to know,' asked Larry despairingly. 'What satisfaction does it give you? They're all either fossilized or mental.' 'Indeed, they're not mental,' said Mother indignantly.'Nonsense, Mother... Look at Aunt Bertha, keeping flocks of imaginary cats... and there's Great-Uncle Patrick, who wanders about nude and tells complete strangers how he killed whales with a penknife...They're all bats.”

“Those aren't from my mother's garden, are they? She'll throttle you.""No," he said, making a grand show of looking insulted. "I would never.""Sorry," she said with a cringe."They're from your neighbor's garden, actually.”