Wait. You work for me?" "I prefer to think of it as managing your incompetence.

I'm so pretty, it's hard for me to think of myself as intelligent.

My hair had grown out long and shaggy—not in that sexy-young-rock-star kind of way but in that time-to-take-Rover-to-the-groomer kind of way.

So. You get handed a holy sword by an archangel, told to go fight the forces of evil, and you somehow remain an atheist. Is that what you're saying?

It always shocked me how you could understand so many things and be such a complete idiot about so many others.

Thank God for wisecracks.

Sticks and stones and small caliber bullets may break my bones... Words will never, et cetera.