I love you all, even those I don’t particularly like. That’s you, Beryl.

I swear, talking to you is like talking to a really good-looking and mildly stupid brick wall.

It always surprised Valkyrie whenever she realized just how close the weird and the wonderful, and the fierce and the frightening, lived to the rest pf the non-magical, mortal world.

That's a shame. I'm sure somebody, somewhere, cares.

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.

Dublin City was quiet when they reached the Waxwork Museum, as if it was holding its breath.

Are you hurt? Are you injured?" / "No, just a bruise or two. I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry about me." / "Stephanie, you jumped off a building." / "Yes, but the branches broke my fall. Every one of them." / "And how were the branches?" / "A lot unlike pillows.