I'm fairly certain. I could be some ghastly hallucination, a figment of my own imagination

While my insides may be rotten, I still like a good reason to kill someone. It has to be either business, personal, or out of sheer boredom.

Valkyrie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friend is most likely dead.” “Of course he’s dead. He’s a skeleton.

Do you think it would be quite so easy to kill them now that your weapon has been destroyed?' he sneered. 'No,' she said, frowning at him, 'Obviously not.

I should go in alone," Valkyrie said, speaking loudly to be heard. "If we both go in, it'll look to official." "So I'll just stay out here?" Skulduggery asked. "But what'll I do? There's no one to talk to. It's boring." "You're standing on the roof of a train," Valkyrie pointed out. "If you find this boring, you really need your head examined. Just wait here. I'll do what has to be done and I'll be find out. "Fine," he said, sounding grumpy. "Don't be long.

"Found something?"..."No, sorry. I thought I had, but, no, it turned out to be, uh… more floor."

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.