You need to stop thinking with your head, Mud Boy, and start thinking with your heart.” Artemis sighed. The heart was an organ for pumping oxygen-rich blood to the cells. It could no more think than an apple could tap-dance.

The thing about reading is that if you are hooked, you're not going to stop just because one series is over; you're going to go and find something else.

Thankfully the rest of the world assumed that the Irish were crazy, a theory that the Irish themselves did nothing to debunk. They had somehow got it into their heads that each fairy lugged around a pot of gold with him wherever he went. While it was true that LEP had a ransom fund, because of its officers' high-risk occupation, no human had ever taken a chunk of it yet. This didn't stop the Irish population in general from skulking around rainbows, hoping to win the supernatural lottery.

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?

I wear a name tag to help people find me. It saves time when you're dealing with idiots.

Wait," said Butler. "Just wait, Holly. Artemis has a plan." He squinted through the green dome. "What is your plan, Artemis?" All Artemis could do was smile and shrug.

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