Why can't I solve this problem by killing someone? she though petulantly, then comforted herself with the mantra that had kept her going in prison: "Soon all the humans will be dead," she said, droning in the time-honored fashion of gurus everywhere. "And then Opal will be loved." And even if I'm not loved, she thought, at least all the humans will be dead.

Artemis ducked. Cudgeon didn't. Guess what? Artemis was smarter.

...to be injured on this tundra would lead to a quick and painful death—or at the very least abject humiliation before the popping flashes of the tourist season's tail end, which was slightly less painful than a painful death, but lasted longer.

(about his terrible attempt at making a sandwich) It's more difficult than it looks. (Artemis Fowl)

Her glare was so intense that you completely forgot she was wearing pink.

The Theory of Evolution has more holes in it than a dam made out of Swiss cheese.

I can grow cameras!" she had shrieked at the Brill brothers during one briefing. "Who's to say that despicable centaur Foaly hasn't succeded in splicing surveillance equiptment to plants? So get rid of all the flowers. Rocks, too. I don't trust them. Sullen little blebers.