“Today you are thirteen weeks old and already controversial. You should know that the mention of the name Pablo is alarming to a very few, highly insignificant people. From this palsied paction there is occasionally the slightest pause, and then, 'Oh, really. Pablo.' Then with a small, self-depreciating chuckle, they might tilt their heads playfully and say something like 'Aren't you afraid people will think he's Mexican?'... I find it amusing when they balk at Pablo, as though we were naming you Jesus H. Christ and jamming our nails into your hands. They seem to feel your name is up for general discussion, like naming a local bridge or a stray cat.Hmmm. Mr. Whiskers? I don't like Mr. Whiskers. I like the name Blackie.'Aren't you afraid people will think he's black?”

“Yeah? What'd you name all those cats?"Death, Famine, Pestilence, War, and Mr. Whiskers."You named your cats after the riders of the apocal--wait. Mr. Whiskers?"Well, there are only four horsemen.”

“What's your name?''Names!' she sniffed, rolling her eyes. 'People always want names, don't they? They're mad about naming. I will let the moment name me.' she eyed Jack expectantly.'You want me to name you?' he asked.'People from the other side are very dull,' she sighed.'Give yourself a name for me. I don't need naming for myself, do I?”

“Later, the talk turned to all the other guys/girls who were currently hot for the two of them. 'There's this total dweeb named Robert who's always calling me, and I feel bad because he's really nice, but I'm totally not interested,' Phoebe told Pablo.'Believe me, I know what that's like,' Pablo told Phoebe. 'There's this girl at Hunter who's, like, obsessed with me. She's, like, this big fat girl. Ass like a truck. She's always writing me these love letters. Maybe I should fuck her. You know, just to be nice.' (Smile, smile.)'You're so bad.' (Phoebe shaking her head; Pablo loving it; Phoebe loving it, too. What was more ego-enhancing than making dumb jokes at the expense of ugly women? Phoebe could never decide whom she hated more--other people or herself.)”

“She thinks my name is Freddie, you know, but of course it ain't. Ialways tell these people some name like that, because if they got ontoyour right name they might use it sometime. Understand?”

“How dare you! What is your name? I shall make it a sin to be spoken.”The braveness of his chuckle and grin made me step back. “Garrett. My name is Garrett and please make my name a sin to speak. Maybe that way I won’t have people like you screaming out for people like me; for people like you are so ghastly and in need of saving too many times.” Lucy to Garrett from my Steampunk YA Romance book I have started.”