I need a weapon,” Valkyrie muttered. “You’re an Elemental with a Necromancer ring, trained in a variety of martial arts by some of the best fighters in the world,” Skulduggery pointed out. “I’m fairly certain that makes you a weapon.” “I mean a weapon you hold. You have a gun, Tanith has a sword... I want a stick.” “I’ll buy you a stick for Christmas.

Suddenly Saracen Rue looked old and tired, and Skulduggery Pleasant came into focus as what he really was – a genius, a killer, a tortured soul, and the only true dead man among them.

Sometimes it's not what you say, Valkyrie, it's just the fact that you're saying it.

Guild doesn't like me." "That's true." "He doesn't like you, ether." "That is mystifying.

We're not really intruding," he called down. "This is all a big misunderstanding." "Stop right there!" shouted one of them. Skulduggery held his hand to an ear he didn't have. "What's that?" "Stop!" "Keep going?" "STOP!" "OK, we'll keep going.

Doors are for people with no imagination.

That's ridiculous. The only point in having enemies is so you can defeat them, kill them, brush them aside." "Or give them a chance to redeem themselves.