One of the lambs fixed its attention on Jared. “Baa,” it flirted. “Boo,” said Jared. “Oh my God, Jared. Don’t tough-talk the lambs.” "It was giving me a funny look.

Oh, Rusty, why did you let her in?" Angela said. "We could have just lain down on the floor until she went away. We could've had a nice floor nap." "Have you guys eaten?" Kami asked. "I'm starving." "Cooking is so much trouble," Rusty said mournfully. "You could order in," Kami suggested. "Delivery people are so annoying," Angela responded.

It was all right. Nick thought about this and decided that what Alan said was true. He'd never been helpless before, not since he could remember, but now he was and everything was all right. He did not have to speak, he was not able to move, all he could do was lie there and have his brother hold him, hunched over and shielding him from the world.

The word 'home', it seemed, once learned, was a hard one to forget.

Wearing that? Wouldn't you fancy a shapeless cardigan instead? You rock a shapeless cardigan, honey.

All he said was, "Here, have your dinfast. Then we can start packing." "Dinfast," Nick repeated. "Dinner and breakfast!" Alan said triumphantly. "Like brunch." Nick subjected him to a long, judgemental stare. "There's something very wrong with you," he said at last. "I thought you should know.

Also, you may not have noticed, but this is a cupboard." "I admit that our private office is of modest dimensions," Kami told him, "But that's the way we like it. Just because we're editors doesn't mean we need special privileges. We're not snobs.