“INot my best side, I'm afraid.The artist didn't give me a chance toPose properly, and as you can see,Poor chap, he had this obsession withTriangles, so he left off two of myFeet. I didn't comment at the time(What, after all, are two feetTo a monster?) but afterwardsI was sorry for the bad publicity.Why, I said to myself, should my conquerorBe so ostentatiously beardless, and rideA horse with a deformed neck and square hoofs?Why should my victim be soUnattractive as to be inedible,And why should she have me literallyOn a string? I don't mind dyingRitually, since I always rise again,But I should have liked a little more bloodTo show they were taking me seriously.IIIt's hard for a girl to be sure ifShe wants to be rescued. I mean, I quiteTook to the dragon. It's nice to beLiked, if you know what I mean. He wasSo nicely physical, with his clawsAnd lovely green skin, and that sexy tail,And the way he looked at me,He made me feel he was all ready toEat me. And any girl enjoys that.So when this boy turned up, wearing machinery,On a really dangerous horse, to be honestI didn't much fancy him. I mean,What was he like underneath the hardware?He might have acne, blackheads or evenBad breath for all I could tell, but the dragon--Well, you could see all his equipmentAt a glance. Still, what could I do?The dragon got himself beaten by the boy,And a girl's got to think of her future.IIII have diplomas in DragonManagement and Virgin Reclamation.My horse is the latest model, withAutomatic transmission and built-inObsolescence. My spear is custom-built,And my prototype armourStill on the secret list. You can'tDo better than me at the moment.I'm qualified and equipped to theEyebrow. So why be difficult?Don't you want to be killed and/or rescuedIn the most contemporary way? Don'tYou want to carry out the rolesThat sociology and myth have designed for you?Don't you realize that, by being choosy,You are endangering job prospectsIn the spear- and horse-building industries?What, in any case, does it matter whatYou want? You're in my way. - Not My Best Side”

“I broke up with this girl, and they put me with a psychiatrist who said, 'Why did you get so depressed, and do all those things you did?' I said, 'I wanted this girl and she left me.'And he said,'Well, we have to look into that.'And I said, 'There's nothing to look into! I wanted her and she left me.' And he said, 'Well, why are you feeling so intense?'And I said, 'Cause I want the girl!' And he said, 'What's underneath it?' And I said, 'Nothing!'He said, 'I'll have to give you medication.'I said, 'I don't want medication! I want the girl!'And he said, 'We have to work this through.'So, I took a fire extinguisher from the casement and struck him across the back of his neck. And before I knew it, guys from Con Ed had jumper cables in my head and the rest was...”

“Thank you for getting me," I try to say. My lips are so tired they don't want to move."Anytime,Zara.Really.I mean it." He seems to be smelling my hair."I know you hate me and everything but we should be friends," I tell him, closing my eyes."I don't hate you," he says. "That's not it at all.""What is it then? Are you a victim of parthenophobia?""Parthenophobia?""Fear of girls.""You are so strange." He moves back even closer to me, this wicked glint in his eyes like he's trying hard not to snort-laugh at me. His hand presses against the side of my head. Nobody has ever touched me like this before, all gentle and romantic, but strong at the same time. "I'm not afraid of girls.""Then why haven't you kissed any?"For a second his eyes flash. "Maybe the right one hasn't come around yet.”

“I'm going to make it very hard. I love you and I'm tired of being told what I should want and what I should do. You and I got married and I can stomp my foot and scream and rail at you because of the deal you made with my father, but the truth is I wouldn't have married you if I didn't want to". She took a deep breath. "And I don't think anyone. including my father, could have forced you to marry me. So, Mr. Megalos, consider yourself stuck with me.”

“Luce," he said at last, his voice soft. "what do you want me to do?" He paused, waiting for my response, but I wasn't sure what he was asking, so no response came. "Please, just tell me," he continued. "Tell me what you want me to say, and do, when it comes to Adriana or any other girl that looks my way, and I'll do it. You want me to fire a spit wad between their eyes? So be it. You want me to flip them off any time any one of them looks my way? You got it. You want me to poke my eyes out so I can't see another one of their suggestive smiles again?" he trailed on, half of his face squishing together. "Well, that would suck, but I'd do it. For you." Cradling my face in his hands again, he leaned forward so his eyes were staring into mine from half a foot away. "Just tell me, baby. What do you want me to do?”

“Do you know what it was like kissing Holly and looking up to see you?""What?""You said to begin anywhere."But I hadn't expected that as a beginning, middle or end. I felt my cheeks getting warm. "I guess it was pretty embarrassing for both of us," I said, and walked ahead of him so he wouldn't see my face. "I know, I just kept staring at you.""What were you thinking?""I don't remember.""Don't you start using that line," he chided."Then don't ask me, Nick." Did he suspect how I felt.He caught me and turned me around to face him. I focused on his shirt. "Okay," he said quietly, "I'll tell you what I was thinking. I couldn't believe that I, who was never going to get hooked, had fallen in love with a girl who didn't want to date, and she was watching me kiss somebody else."I glanced up."Your turn, brave girl. What were you thinking?""That Holly looked beautiful in your arms and that you didn't pull away from her the way you had pulled away from me when I kissed you."He drew me to him. "I'm not pulling away again," he said holding me close.”

“When I asked him for some explanation as to why he wanted to kill me, he said it was because he didn't like his jobs. When I asked him since when had he not liked his jobs, he said since always. When I remarked that he had never told me this, and that I had gotten the impression that he had liked them, he said: "How is that possible? You know me. Do I strike you as stupid or boring?""No.""Then how could you think I would enjoy being an etiquette expert, or a Weight Watchers' counselor, or a stripper? How could you think that someone like me, with my mind, my character, would derive any satisfaction from those things?”