So?" Bob said. "Hat up, go kill her. Problem solved." "Bob," I said. "You can't just go around killing people." "I know. That's why you should do it." "No, no. I can't go around killing people, either.

If you can't stop the bad thoughts from coming to visit, at least you can make fun of them while they're hanging around.

Polka will never die.

Here there be monster." Bob whispered, half hysterically. "Run! Run already!

All right, you primitive screwheads. Listen up. I'm Harry Dresden. I'm the new Winter Knight.

I put on the boots and kicked some monster ass.

I mean, we're all going to die. We know that on an intellectual level. We figure it out when we're still fairly young, and it scares us so badly that we convince ourselves we're immortal for more than a decade afterwards.