Finn did what he always did when confronted by an angry woman—he checked out her boobs.
I was so getting tired of fighting for my life in the library.
Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.
My name is Gin, and I kill people.
I'm crazy about you, Spartan.
I'm a figment of your imagination. You're only imagining that I'm sitting here eating with you. Because I'm just so freaking awesome that people daydream about being seen with me.