• If my soul touches you and it happens to burn you I'm not to blame... it was you who lit it on fire
• I swear to you on cottage cheese and tobacco
• If the people rule in poetry, so will they rule in politics and that's the goal of the century! To hell with the aristocracy!
• My dear buddy,
• My soul, my bastard,
• My golden mouthed saintly friend,
• My rowdy brother,
• My lovable dummy,
• If you want to see a dead Pegasus, look no further than me
• I am trying to learn to smile nicely ( he did not succeed)
• My dear friend, you better side of my soul
• I will never forgive you for NOT writing the address on the envelope yourself. A woman's handwriting... and a black seal... dear god, the devil took him! he worked himself to death writing poems, he died! ... and then i opened your letter... Never do this again. Only use black seal vax on your death, and even then, still write the address yourself!
• I'm reading (your work) for the sixth time. It's really a horrible thing. I'll need to read it again to understand just how awful it is!
• Sincerely, your friend whose balls are itching
• It's really good that your sore throat is gone, I can finally strangle you
• Leave the dedication! Veselényi is a great man but he's still a Lord, and a poet should never dedicate ANYTHING to a Lord
• I'm hugging you a 1000000000000 times!

Laying out his cards, Ratio asked, "Are you feeling any better?" After a moment, Aventurine - arms crossed, shoulders raised, glaring daggers at his own winning hand - quietly admitted, "Yeah." His shoulders lost a bit of their tension, the furrow between his brows smoothed out, though he conspicuously didn't look up from his cards. "It's helping a lot. Thanks, Ratio." Ratio smiled, fond and indulgent.