He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay. I said it, it's out there. And I am fine now. So let's move on, shall we? What's the plan?

How did that go?’ he asked. ‘Your first lengthy conversation with a girl your own age?’ ‘Fabulous,’ said Artemis, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘We’re planning a June wedding.

Is that how you're going to take me? Scare me into voluntarily coming aboard, then steal my Ice Cube?" "It's always cubes with you," noted Foaly, somewhat randomly. "What's wrong with a nice sphere?

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.

I'm on my feet, pacing around the room, punching a fist into my palm, which I stop doing when I realise how drama queen it feels.

Certainly, Doctor. Let's talk about your chair. Victorian?

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