Do you think we’ll be waiting long?” Valkyrie asked, keeping her voice low. “The last time we were in this building, we accused the Grand Mage of being a traitor,” Skulduggery said. “Yes, I think we’ll be waiting long.

If anyone stops us, as long as we mumble something pretentious about the glory of death, we should be fine.

The lies we tell other people are nothing to the lies we tell ourselves.

How have you been? You’re still as beautiful as ever.” “As are you, my dear. I love your shoes.” “Aren’t they delightful? I saw them and just had to have them. Their previous owner wasn’t too keen to let them go, but I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” “Is that her blood on the left one?” “And no amount of scrubbing will get it out, either.

The Torment turned his head to him, and frowned. "Who are you?" "I'm... sorry? It's me, it's Vaurien. Vaurien Scapegrace. I... built the cellar for you?" "Oh," the Torment said. "You. Why are you back? I thought you were dead. It would have been nice if you were dead

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.

She had been a teenager once, and she knew that, despite the apparent contradictions, a person's teenage years lasted well into their fifties.