“Liar! Liar!" shrieked suddenly from the now open trap door.Miracle Max whirled. "Back, Witch--" he commanded."I'm not a witch, I'm your wife--" she was advancing on him now, an ancient tiny fury--"and after what you've just done I don't think I want to be that any more--”
“For the record, I don't expect you to believe any of this. Not really. I'm a liar by trade, after all; albeit, I like to think, an honest liar.”
“I'm not witch. I'm your wife.”
“A hundred years ago they'd have burned you as a witch…" "But I'm not a witch." "I don't suppose any of them were.”
“I'm sorry," she said humbly. "I haven't wanted to lie to you.""I should hope so. You're the worst liar I've ever met." He thought about it for a moment, then added, "--or the best. Now I'm all confused.”
“...just because I don't have on a silly black costume and carry a silly broom and wear a silly black hat, doesn't mean that I'm not a witch. I'm a witch all the time and not just on Halloween.”