Well, to put it delicately, she has the power to suck out people's brains.

You're late,' he said. 'I'm beautiful.' 'You're always beautiful.' 'I'm always late too.

I love you.' 'Yeah, well...' 'You make my heart want to beat.' 'That's nice and creepy. But I'm with Fletcher.(...) Also, these proclamations of your undying love for me are getting kind of... it's a bit much to be honest. Just hold back a little.' 'But my love for you is eternal.' 'That's exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about.

Desmond, don't poke the baby!'... 'I'll get you next time-' Don't threaten the baby either!'.

Thank you,” Skulduggery said to her. “I fear he was about to start insulting me.” “I couldn’t let that happen,” she said. “Your ego is a fragile and delicate thing.” “You see? You understand me.

I was wondering how you were going to punish me for not confiding in you. Punishment, actually, is something I've thought about for a long time. What form of punishment would be enough for what I did? Imprisonment? Death? Something else? Something scarier? I could only think of so many horrible tortures before they stopped having meaning. But you' you've come up with a punishment I never considered. You're going to sulk me to death.

Talking about one's feelings defeats the purpose of having those feelings. Once you try to put the human experience into words, it becomes little more than a spectator sport. Everything must have a cause, and a name. Every random thought must have a root in something else.