There was something very comforting about him, and I was not sure if it was his easy manner or his complete immunity to my scowling.

An evil spark flared in his eyes. "Trade: raccoon for some answers.

The kind of eyes that jumped from a woman's dreams right into her morning and made trouble in the marriage bed.

And I meant to tell you: that was a one-in-a-thousand shot." She raised her hand. "Don't." "It was awesome," George confirmed. "It really was," Jack said. "His head exploded.

Curran grinned and my heart made a little jump. I didn’t expect that. “That’s it? That’s your witty comeback?” “Yep.” Eloquence ’R’ Us. When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic—safer that way.

I have a serious question." "I will give a serious answer." "Can a god be killed?" The humor drained from Roman's face. "Well, that depends on if you're a pantheist or a Marxist." "What's the difference?" "The first believes that divinity is the universe. The two are synonymous and nonexistent without each other. The second believes in anthropocentrism, seeing man in the center of the universe, and god as just an invention of human conscience. Of course, if you follow Nietzsche, you can kill God just by thinking about him.

The Beast Lord walked out of the warehouse. The screen went dark. My knight in furry armor. Saiman opened his mouth. "This is why I didn't. Personally, I think your smile is inappropriate.