We're all so damned fragile.

Any time I’m not shooting my mouth off to a clichéd, two-bit creature of the night like you, it’s because I’m up to something.

...the Stone Table [was] a place that served as the OK Corral for the Faerie Courts when they decided to engage in diplomacy by means of murdering anyone on the other team.

Harry," Bob drawled, his eye lights flickering smugly, "what you know about women, I could juggle.

The One created us all to be free. To learn. To find common cause with others and to grow stronger and wiser. But the ancient enemy perverts that union of strengths. With the enemy, there is no choice, no freedom. They take. They force a joining of all things, until nothing else remains. --Doroga

There aren't any magical words, really. Words just hold the magic.

When you die, do you want to feel ashamed of what you've done with your life? Feel ashamed of what your life meant?