Ask a man how much a dollar is worth, and he'll tell you, 'Almost nothing.' Try to take a dollar away from him, and you'll get yourself a fight.

Other pirates leaped over the railing. One, two... seven... thirteen. A baker’s dozen. Wait, fifteen. Eighteen... Twenty-one. The odds weren’t in our favor. “Maybe they just came over to borrow a cup of sugar,” I said. Andrea barked a short laugh. Curran put his hand on my shoulder. “That’s a lot of sugar. Must be a big cake.

Rumors said that if he got drunk enough, he sometimes got his jollies by stripping naked and scaring hikers out in the Broken into thinking he was Bigfoot.

I was a knight," Andrea said. "I'm not just going to start shooting every dickhead who mouths off to me." "Just making sure." "Besides, if I shot him, I'd do it so nobody could trace it back to me. I'd shoot him somewhere remote, his head would explode like a melon, and they would never find his body. He would just vanish.

Aha! So I’m not crazy.” “You are most definitely crazy,” Derek said. “But in a deranged, endearing way.

Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?

It's a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.