Mab turned back to me and eyed me up and down. She quirked one eyebrow, very slightly, somehow conveying layers of disapproval toward multiple aspects of my appearance, conduct, and situation, and said, 'Finally.' 'There’s been a lot on my mind,' I replied. 'It seems unlikely that your cares will lighten,' Queen Mab replied. 'Improve your mind.'

Got to die of something," Giraldi observed. "Might as well put back a few pints while you wait to see what it is.

Magic comes from what is inside you. It is a part of you. You can't weave together a spell that you don't beleive in.

You’re playing the creepy vibe a little hard,” I said. “Might as well go for broke, put on a black top hat and pipe in some organ music.

I'm brilliant as well as skilled," he said modestly. "It's a great burden, all of that on top of my angelic good looks. But I try to soldier on as best I can.

The mad rarely know that they are mad. It's the rest of the world, I think, that seems insane to them.

In the name of the Pizza Lord. Charge!