Victor Vigny: It is like the old fairy tale. The boy saves the princess; they fall in love. He invents a flying machine - along with his dashing teacher, of course. They get married and name thier firstborn after the aforementioned dashing teacher. Conor: I don't recall that fairy tale from the nursery. Victor Vigny: Trust me, It's a classic.

Grab some caviar from the kitchen. You wouldn't believe the muck they feed us in Bartleby's for ten thousand a term.

Artemis Fowl grinned right back at him and pointed his index finger to the sky... from the tip of this finger sprang a small blue spark that exploded like a tiny firework. “I know magic can be stolen,” said Artemis. “Because I stole some myself.

No, mademoiselle, I would not like to see the children's menu. I have no doubt that the children's menu itself tastes better than the meals on it. I would like to order à la carte. Or don't you serve fish to minors?

She can't afford to commit more troops,' Holly whispered. 'The gate is her priority, and she needs to have as many Berserkers watching her back as possible. We are secondary at this point.' 'That will be her undoing,' Artemis gasped, already suffering under the weight of the flak jacket. 'Artemis Fowl will never be secondary.' 'I thought you were Artemis Fowl the Second?' said Holly.

Maybe I’ll keep you.” Abbot chuckled and prodded Artemis’s back with his sword. “It’d be nice to have a pet human around. I could teach you tricks.” “I have a trick for you,” said Artemis, and he fired a single blast from the gun.

Holly walked rapidly into the cockpit, strapping herself into the pilot's chair. "Seven and a half hours to save the world. Isn’t there some law that says we get at least twenty-four?" Artemis strapped himself into the co-pilot's chair. "I don't think Opal bothers with laws.