Try a rocket launcher. Think maybe you could manage to hit me with that?

The kind of person that thanks another person never survives. Have you learned nothing?

You mean you have to be epic already, for it to make you more epic?

He was still frowning at the cake, looking at it as if he expected it to sprout dozens of legs and begin scuttling toward him, thin-lipped, teeth bared.

Churches crack me up. They're like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe that not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up alters, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that'd make a coven of witches not look OCD.

Friends don’t build cages for each other.

She's thirteen. Time will remedy that.