from Ch 7, the Rosebush Steward:

"What I believe," Heck said, sounding tired, "is that I don't know him any more than he knows me, and so I can't make a determination either way, can I? He's a bit crazy, and I'm not, and that's all I really know. And I believe that whatever living under these names does to our lives or circumstances, we're still ultimately responsible for our actions."

Demetre frowned.

from Ch 12, Little Birds:

"We're going to be well-known, whether you like it or not." She looked ahead as the second group of Greens did amateurish tricks no one was enchanted by any more, envisioning the future. "Books'll be written about us. Historians will dig into our sordid pasts!"

"We haven't got sordid pasts," he pointed out. "We're thirteen."

She frowned at him and rolled her eyes. "We will have by the time historians are digging into them. That'll be way in the future, maybe twenty years!"

from Ch 13, Blood of Fairies:

"Right." As predicted, Heck looked sour and prickly. "I dreamed that a girl was singing. I followed the sound out into the hallway and came face to face with a girl who said something about not worrying, then she said my name and I started waking up, because I noticed she had red hair just before I fell over, but that was obviously just because I was really seeing the Celt and conflating the dream with reality."

"Language," Thatch laughed.

"What, 'conflating'?" Farrah said, grinning. "Like you've never conflated before."

"Wait, what?" Brobstack murmured, looking lost.

"Children," Demetre chided wearily.