Just leave her alone. You're annoying her.' 'I'm not annoying her. She doesn't even know how to be annoyed. She's, what, a week old?' 'She's three months.' 'She's three months in our years, but what is she in baby years?

Don't be jealous of my genius.

You make a good point,' Fletcher conceded. 'See, there's a reason why you're the girl and I'm the boy. You think about things while I...' 'Don't?' 'Exactly,' he said happily.

He crouched at the car window and looked in. 'What a lovely family you have. What a charming family. They're all lovely. Except for that one.' His finger jabbed the glass. 'That one's a bit ugly.

I kill a sofa for you and you go and sit in a chair?” Skulduggery asked. “I don’t think you appreciate the sacrifice that has been made for you.

She’s not… She’s not datin’ the skeleton, is she? How would that be even possible, let alone… nice? He’s got no skin, or lips, or… or nothin’.

And then the Necromancers pulled out their sub-atomic machine guns.