Rain was coming down in sheets. I could hear it, on the concrete outside and on the old building above me. It creaked and swayed in the spring thunderstorm and the wind, timbers gently flexing, wise enough with age to give a little, rather than put up stubborn resistance until they broke. I could probably stand to learn something from that.

Answer my question, Dresden,' Nicodemus growled. 'What is that?' 'A precaution against getting stuck in deep snow,' I said. 'He's training to be a Saint Bernard.' 'Excuse me?' Nicodemus said. I mimed covering one of Mouse's ears with my hand and stage-whispered, 'Don't tell him that they don't actually carry kegs of booze on their collars. Break his little heart.

Punctuality is for people with nothing better to do

And thrice do I say to thee...bite me.

Many women have earned titles, Your Grace. It doesn't seem to have been a factor in whether or not they actually received them.

‎It isn't enough to stand up and fight darkness. You've got to stand apart from it, too. You've got to be different from it.

Pain is to be endured. It ends or it does not.