Benny was awake again. Happened every morning.

If things go badly for me tonight, I want you to stay with Mr. Wynter; he will pay you a decent wage.” “Will he make me bathe?” “No, he will debate the matter with you until you decide to wash.” “Ah. One of those.

You know you're in trouble when your own imagination starts punishing you.

He threw his head back and sang, "'I am a centaur, yes, a centaur is what I am.' It's not like you to wax, Artemis" "Foaly is singing," said Holly. "Surely that's illegal?

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

And one more thing. About my name — Artemis — you were right. In London, it is generally a female name, after the Greek goddess of archery. But every now and then a male comes along with such a talent for hunting that he earns the right to use the name. I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.

The sarcasm made a slight whistling noise as it flew over Loafers' head.