Man, you weigh a freaking ton. What have you been eating, rocks?" * Max: "Why, is your head missing some?" o Chapter 68 p. 214 + Fang carried Max while flying after she had "a stroke or something". Gazzy: "I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahs!" ter Borcht: "Is dere anysing special about you? Anysing vorth saving?" Fang: "Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.

Unfortunately, every time someone said “debriefing,” the entire flock had one image: someone’s tighty-whities disappearing in a flash. We were smothering our giggles, but it was getting harder. Coupled with the whole “naval this, and naval that,” with its undeniable belly-button connotations, we were essentially turning into a sugar-jacked, sleep-deprived flock of incoherent, silly, recombinant-DNA goofballs. This was not going to end well.

I never read detective novels. I started out in graduate school writing a more serious book. Right around that time I read 'The Day of the Jackal' and 'The Exorcist'. I hadn't read a lot of commercial fiction, and I liked them.

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.

Fang: When do I get out of here? Max: They say a week. Fang: So, like, tomorrow? Max: That's what I'm thinking.

It was like meeting someone out of your dreams, or fantasies, or a beloved character from a favorite book.

Awwww, lame, we're not going to disneyworld. (said by the amazing talking dog, Total)