Murphy watched me thoughtfully for several empty seconds. Then she said, very gently, "You're a good man, Harry." I swallowed and bowed my head, made humble by the tone of her voice and the expression on her face, more than the words themselves. Not always rational," she said, smiling. "But you're the best kind of crazy.

You know the law, Dresden." "He who kills the cheer springs for beer," chanted the rest of the table.

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?

...as nervous as a bird in a coal mine.

No rest for the wicked, Bob, and that means that we can't slack off either, or they'll outwork us.

Not that I was worried about anyone stealing my car. I once had a car thief offer to get me something better for a sweetheart rate.

Death is only frightening from the near side.