Don’t kill me,” he sobbed as he lay there. “Oh God, please don’t kill me.” “If you had let me finish,” Skulduggery said, slightly annoyed, “you would have heard me say, ‘Come out, we’re not going to hurt you’. Idiot.” “He probably wouldn’t have said idiot,” Valkyrie told the sobbing man. “We’re trying our best to be nice.” The man blinked through his tears, and looked up. “You’re... You’re not going to kill me?” “No, we’re not,” Valkyrie said gently, “so long as you wipe your nose right now.

I'm placing you under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder and, I don't know, possibly littering.

Plans are invitation to disappointment.

He looked at her. 'In order to finish, I'll have to have defeated six Infected, Dusk, and Vengeous himself.' Yeah. So?' The Infected I can manage.' She frowned. 'And Vengeous? I mean, you can beat him, right?' Well,' he said, "I can certainly try. And trying is half the battle.' What's the other half?' He shrugged. 'Hitting him more times than he hits me.

The rain battered the cottage. Valkyrie risked a look up at Skulduggery. “What is it?” she whispered. “It’s a box,” he whispered back. “What kind of box?” “A wooden one.” She gave him a look.

Oh, escape is easy once you have the right plan.' 'Do we have the right plan?' 'Not yet.' 'Do we have any plan?' 'Not yet.

You are a cynical man, Mr. Pleasant." "We live in cynical times, Miss Cain.