What would it be like to care so little about what other people thought of you?

No, officer, I have no idea why I'm wearing this possum costume. I called you what? OH. My bad." -Nastasya

I didn't know where this stuff was coming from - all of a sudden I was a little magickal sprite, bonding with my stone, feeling my earth roots, la la la... All I can is describe the way it felt. And that was how it felt. So sue me. Was I swaying? I felt like I might be swaying.

I don't love you. But I see the value of you, the incredible worth of you, more than anyone I've ever known.

Of course, when we got home, we found that Dagda had peed on my down comforter. He had also eaten part of Mom's maidenhair fern and barfed it up on the carpet. Then he had apparently worked himself into a frenzy sharpening his ting by amazingly effective claws on the armrest of my dad's favorite chair. Now he was asleep on a pillow, curled up like a fuzzy little snail. "God, he's so cute," I said, shaking my head.

I'd once read somewhere that is takes about half as long to recover from a deep relationship as the relationship lasted.

Women are impossible, witches are worse, and women who are powerful witches are going to be the death of me.