"In the highest civilization, the book is still the highest delight. He who has once known its satisfactions is provided with a resource against calamity."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Well," I said. "I could strip off my clothes and reveal to you that under my jeans and sweatshirt I'm actually wearing a tank top and short-shorts, much like Lara Croft from Tomb Raider... only mine are flame-retardant and covered in glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers."
No one stirred. Not even Christopher, who actually has a thing for Lara Croft.
"I know what you're thinking," I went on. "Glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers are SO last year. But I think they add a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole ensemble. It's true, short-shorts are uncomfortable under jeans and hard to get off in the ladies' room, but they make the twin thigh-holsters in which I hold my high-caliber pistols so easy to get to...."
The oven timer dinged.
"Thank you, Em," Mr. Greer said, yawning. "That was very persuasive."
— Meg Cabot (Airhead)

"'...DAMNATION!'

No device of the printer's art, not even capital letters, can indicate the intensity of that shriek of rage. Emerson is known to his Egyptian workers by the admiring sobriquet of Father of Curses. The volume as well as the content of his remarks earned him the title; but this shout was extraordinary even by Emerson's standards, so much so that the cat Bastet, who had become more or less accustomed to him, started violently, and fell with a splash into the bathtub.

The scene that followed is best not described in detail. My efforts to rescue the thrashing feline were met with hysterical resistance; water surged over the edge of the tub and onto the floor; Emerson rushed to the rescue; Bastet emerged in one mighty leap, like a whale broaching, and fled -- cursing, spitting, and streaming water. She and Emerson met in the doorway of the bathroom.

The ensuing silence was broken by the quavering voice of the safragi, the servant on duty outside our room, inquiring if we required his assistance. Emerson, seated on the floor in a puddle of soapy water, took a long breath. Two of the buttons popped off his shirt and splashed into the water. In a voice of exquisite calm he reassured the servant, and then transferred his bulging stare to me.

'I trust you are not injured, Peabody. Those scratches...'

'The bleeding has almost stopped, Emerson. It was not Bastet's fault.'

'It was mine, I suppose,' Emerson said mildly.

'Now, my dear, I did not say that. Are you going to get up from the floor?'

'No,' said Emerson.

He was still holding the newspaper. Slowly and deliberately he separated the soggy pages, searching for the item that had occasioned his outburst. In the silence I heard Bastet, who had retreated under the bed, carrying on a mumbling, profane monologue. (If you ask how I knew it was profane, I presume you have never owned a cat.)"
— Elizabeth Peters (The Deeds of the Disturber)

"I would never have supposed that inexperienced girl was capable of such cold-blooded, calculating manipulation! "
— Elizabeth Peters (The Ape Who Guards the Balance)

"Character is higher than intellect. A great soul will be strong to live as well as think."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson

"He smiled affably at the burglar, a burly fellow whom he continued to hold with one hand, as easily as if he had been a child. The entire household had been aroused, and a good number of them had joined in, shouting questions and brandishing various deadly instruments. The burglar glared wildly at Emerson, bare to the waist and bulging with muscle - at Gargery and his cudgel - at Selim, fingering a knife even longer than Nefret's - at assorted footmen armed with pokers, spits, and cleavers - and at the giant form of Daoud advancing purposefully toward him. 'It's a bleedin' army!' he gurgled. 'The lyin' barstard said you was some kind of professor!' "
— Elizabeth Peters (The Falcon at the Portal)

""I hate quotations. . . . Tell me what YOU know." "
— R.W. Emerson