A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. “If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep.” I looked at Warren. “You heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get ‘um shut-eye.” “How come you always get to play the Indian?” whined Warren, deadpan. “Cause she’s the Indian, white boy,” said Kyle.

I would slay dragons for you,” he told her. “I suspect that finding an unoccupied bedroom will be easier.

I used my history degree about twice a year whether I needed to or not.

I am the reality of all coyotes. The archetype. The epitome. You are just a reflection of me.

Wizards don't all look alike.

Survivors can't always choose their methods.

Cheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach,” I agreed. He looked blank, so I repeated it with proper emphasis. “ ChEEZ-zes crusty. Got Al -musty. Got DAMp on the StoneofapeaCH.