I waved my hand in front of my face, obi-wan style. "I am not here." Niall's mucas glands kicked into overdrive. "Eoin's dead! And his ghost is standing right there on the grass!" Donal let out a long suffering sigh. "Eoin is being a writer." Niall calmed down, becuase everyone knows writers are weird and are always doing stupid thingss.

Holly clambered after him, struggling up the human-size steps. "Wait! Just wait," she called, overtaking Artemis and looking him in the eye from one step up. "I know you, Artemis. You like to play your genius card close to your chest until the big reveal. And that's worked out for us so far. But this time you need to let me in. I can help. So, tell me the truth, do you have a plan?" Artemis met his friend's gaze and lied to her face. "No," he said. "No plan.

Ignorance, as they say, is usually fatal, but sometimes it can be bliss.

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.

If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm crazy. That's the way history is written.

People are afraid of you, Arty. Girls are terrified of you. You’re a fifteen-year-old in a bespoke suit, and nobody died.

Caballine likes me to be masterful. She calls me her stallion.