What could thunderbirds want with us?" I wondered aloud [...] "We'll find out when Big Bird wakes up," Marc said. My father shook his head. "We'll find out now. Wake him up and make him sing.

Oh fine. I'll play nice with the pretty people.

Some day soon, reaper, your mouth is going to be the source of your own destruction." "That does seem likely, doesn’t it?" Tod glanced at me and shrugged. "Until then, it remains a source of my own amusement.

A smart woman would have shut up. Did I? Hell no. Intelligence is overrated anyway.

So, 'reaper' is really just a nice word for 'covert pervert?' Is that what you're saying?

So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?

I don't have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn't matter.