I'm not a crazy-quilt; I'm patchwork," she said.
"There's no difference," he replied, beginning to laugh again.

"When my old grandmother sews such things together she calls it a crazy-quilt; but I never thought such a jumble could come to life." "It was the Magic Powder that did it," explained Ojo.
"Oh, then you have come from the Crooked Magician on the mountain.

I might have known it, for--Well, I declare! here's a glass cat.

But the Magician will get in trouble for this; it's against the law for anyone to work magic except Glinda the Good and the royal Wizard of Oz.

If you people--or things--or glass spectacles--or crazy-quilts--or whatever you are, go near the Emerald City, you'll be arrested." "We're going there, anyhow," declared Scraps, sitting upon the bench and swinging her stuffed legs.
"If any of us takes a rest, We'll be arrested sure, And get no restitution 'Cause the rest we must endure." "I see," said the woodchopper, nodding; "you're as crazy as the crazy-quilt you're made of." "She really is crazy," remarked the Glass Cat.