You're dead, son. Cheer is contraindicated.

All of those faeries and duels and mad queens and so on, and no one quoted old Billy Shakespeare. Not even once.

You don't take your cat with you to go bird shopping. Not because the cat isn't polite, but because he's a cat.

I'm dealing with a lot of scary things. I think you have to react to them. And you either laugh at them or you go insane.

What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally spit in the eye of destiny?

In the action business, when you don't want to say you ran like a mouse, you call it 'taking cover.' It's more heroic.

And I knew that there was some dark corner of me that would enjoy using magic for killing—and then long for more. That was black magic, and it was easy to use. Easy and fun. Like Legos