A fifeteen-year old, of to save the world, with faries. - Angeline Fowl

Don't you worry about that, Mr. Adamsson. Why don't you head back to Reykjavik and spend some of that extortionate fee you charged me for a couple of hours' usage of your frankly third-rate restaurant and perhaps find a friendless tree stump to listen to your woes?

The two of them went down in a heap, with not even a turkey to break their fall.

Don't hate me forever, Arty," whispered Holly. "I couldn't bear that.

Don’t feel bad; I regularly reduce people to unintelligible stammers.

Stay back, human. You don't know what you're dealing with.

So, let's make a deal: If you do not voice all the withering comments about the weight or uselessness of this jacket that are no doubt swirling in that big brain of yours, then I will not mention the super-laser episode again. Agreed?" This jacket is really cutting into my shoulders, thought Artemis. And it's so heavy that I could not outrun a slug. But he said, "Agreed.