Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?

You're late." "Sorry. I was busy talking about my feelings and killing people.

This is an Aston Martin, Gin.You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Matin." "Tell that to James Bond

I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.

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.

You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.

She doesn't even know how to kill things properlike? What kind of girl have you given me to, goddess?" Vic protested, fixing his eye on Nike once more. Nike let out a laugh. " Vic is a little bloodthirsty. You'll get used to it.