You’re unconscious, moron, my double said to me. We can finally talk to one another.
You’re such a cynic, Molly said. I think cynics are playful and cute.
Your kind, Aleran, are the most vicious and gentle, most savage and noble, most treacherous and loyal, most terrifying and fascinating creatures I have ever seen.' Her fingers brushed over his cheek a...
Your face looks like a sack of purple potatoes
You're mad, the fallen angel said.Get me some Alka Seltzer and I'll foam at the mouth, too.
You know, I believe it is possible to reference something other than Star Wars, boss. I narrowed my eyes in Muppetly wisdom. That is why you fail.
You humans have the potential to be the most wonderful beings there are—if you can get past all these enormous stupid spots you seem to have in your hearts. It’s not your fault. You just don’t know ho...
You have enemies enough without tearing open your own wounds over things you could not have prevented.
Yeah, I should probably eat more vegetables, too, I said, but let’s face it. That isn’t going to happen. So what’s up?
Writing writhed across the surface of the stone, runes that looked a little familiar. Norse, maybe? Some of them looked more like Egyptian. They seemed to take something from several different sources...
Worry is fear in disguise.
Words have a power every bit as terrible and beautiful as magic, and they don't need a special effects budget to do it, either.
What should I do? Uriel asked. Sit, I said. Stay inside. Don’t put pennies in the outlets or play with matches or run with scissors.
We’re all imaginary friends to one another,
Well. We’ll just have to hope that this wasn’t a loup-garou, I guess. If it was a louper, you’d know, Bob said wisely. In the middle of this town, you’d have a dozen people dead every time the full mo...
We need to get out, I said. My voice sounded raw to me. Trouble coming.No, said a beautiful Sidhe baritone. Trouble is here.They appeared from behind their veils, one by one, with so much melodrama th...
We had reached the doors to my suite, which still felt awkward to say, even in my own head. My suite. Guys like me don't have suites. We have lairs.
We followed him through the wealthy splendor of the house. Hardwood floors. Custom carved woodworking. Statues. Fountains. Suits of armor. Original painting, one of them a van Gogh. Stained-glass wind...
Those who had never seen a tribe of cats at war, or at least playing war games, would look upon what came next as utter chaos.
This is bigger than me, he said finally. It’s bigger than polka, even. So I guess I’ll help.