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“You know, Dad. Mom has always done everything for me since I was a baby." Jaret's assessment is accurate. Nancy has helped him with everything from daily living activities to his studies. She has been his chauffeur since Jaret doesn't have a driver's license. Most importantly, she has been his emotional bedrock. She has continuously showered him with the unconditional love necessary to build his self-esteem. But today, he showed the fruits of her years as a Super Mom. " It's my turn, Dad. I need to learn how to take care of Mom. Tell me what to do.”

“You know, Daddy, I think that the most necessary quality for any person to have is imagination. It makes people able to put themselves in other people's places. It makes them kind and sympathetic and understanding. It ought to be cultivated in children. But the John Grier Home instantly stamped out the slightest flicker that appeared. Duty was the one quality that was encouraged. I don't think children ought to know the meaning of the word; it's odious, detestable. They ought to do everything from love.”

“You know, Dag and Claire smile a lot, as do many people I know. But I always wondered if there is something either mechanical or malignant to their smiles, for the way they keep their outer lips propped up seems a bit, not false, but protective. A minor realization hits me as I sit with the two of them. It is the realisation that the smiles that they wear in their daily lives are the same as the smiles worn by people who have been good-naturedly fleeced, but fleeced nonetheless, in public and on a New York sidewalk by card sharks, and who are unable because of social conventions to show their anger, who don't want to look like poor sports.”

“You know, Ella, you're not the first woman who's ever been in this shower with me--" "I'm shocked." I leaned back against him as he soaped my back. "--but you're for damn sure the first one who's ever worried about wasting water." "How much, would you say?" "Ten gallons per minute, give or take." "Oh my God. Hurry.We can't stay in here long. We'll throw the entire ecological system out of balance.”

“You know, Eris,' he said, a hand wrapping around the doorknob. 'I think you might be a decent male, deep down, trapped in a terrible situation.' He looked over his shoulder and found Eris's gaze blazing again. But only pity stirred in his chest, pity for a male who had been born into riches, but had been destitute in every way that truly mattered. In every way that Cassian had been blessed- blessings that were now overflowing. So Cassian said, 'I grew up surrounded by monsters. I've spent my existence fighting then. And I see you, Eris. You're not one of them. Not even close. I think you might even be a good male.' Cassian opened the door, turning from Eris's curled lip. 'You're just too much of a coward to act like one.”

“You know, everyone says the duchess is such a terrible mistress, but you don't seem to be that afraid of her." "I'm not," Cinderella admitted. "I've seen real cruelty, and the duchess is not even close. She can be difficult, but her heart is in the right place. Besides, she likes Bruno, and since adopting him, she's been kind to me." "Maybe, but I think there's more to it than Bruno," determined Louisa. "You just seem so cheerful, Cinderella- cheerful yet sad. I don't know how to explain it, but I bet people find it difficult being angry with you. I wonder if that's why the duchess likes you so much. Even Aunt Irmina does, even if she won't admit it.”

“You know everything and you know nothing… And in that there’s this: You will always learn something new. About him. About her. About yourself. And in learning the bad, the uncomfortable, the messy- it’s what you take away that counts. What will you do with that knowledge? Will you leave? Pull tighter? Ignore it? Use it to fall in love even deeper? That’s when you learn more about yourself.”

“You know exactly what I’m offering you. All of you. I’m offering the impossible. I’m giving you both of the options you deliberated over for so long. I’m offering to save this world…” I pressed my teeth together, flicking my eyes to the three figures now huddled in the corner of the room, cowering away from our tense discussion. “And I’m offering to share in the benefits,” I finally hedged. “A six-way share. A six-way partnership.” “You can’t cram six people into a two-person carriage”

“You know George W. Bush is a war-time president, he says - proudly. Guess what. War is failure! When you are at war, you have failed! When you have gone to a war of choice and lied about it, you're a double-triple, triple-quadruple failure! Or a warlord. It's called a warlord in other countries. A war time president here. One man's ceiling I guess is another man's floor. George Bush is a warlord. He's a failure!”