This is a woman you've known less than twelve hours. It took you a year to pick out a couch, but you're seriously—" “Yes,” Roger said. “She's the one.

Wonder of wonders, the box had Elvis. Immediately the bar seemed a better place. She fed in coins and then punched the keys for "Hound Dog." Too bad Elvis had never recorded one called "Dickhead.

As far as I'm concerned the last good man went when Elvis died.

He was not looking forward to breaking the law. He was straight now. He'd matured. Crime no longer excited him. What?' Ronald said. I didn't say anything.' You're breathing heavy.

Tomorrow we go back to normal?" "Sure," Mab said. "It'll be like none of this happened. Except I'll still be pregnant, and you'll still be making dragons, and Glenda will still be pretending that Dreamland is Cancun, and Weaver will still own the only green velvet demon in captivity. Other than that, perfectly normal." "I just meant no demons trying to kill us," Cindy said. "My baseline for normal is a lot lower than yours.

Values aren't buses... They're not supposed to get you anywhere. They're supposed to define who you are.

Look, Mother, I am never going to be thin. I'm Norwegian. If you wanted a thin daughter, you should not have married a man whose female ancestors carried cows home from the pasture