I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.

I thought you said scrying was a bad idea.” “It's like vodka,” Calla said. “It really depends on who's doing it.

I think-I need to ask an embarrassing question. Do you think I could borrow a pair of scrubs? I-uh-my pants-" "Oh!" Cried the poor nurse. "Yes. Absolutely. I'll be right back." [...] "Thanks," I mumbled. "I'll just change here. He's not looking at anything at the moment." I gestured toward Sam, who was looking convincingly sedated. The nurse vanished through the curtains. Sam eye's flashed open again, distinctly amused. He whispered, "Did you just tell that man you went potty on yourself?" "You.Shut.UP." I hissed back furiously.

He left Chainsaw behind, much to her irritation. Ronan didn't want her to learn any bad language.

My father said once that if I didn't have my mother's ginger hair, I wouldn't blush or curse as easily. Which I though was unfair. I hardly ever curse or blush, even though I've had plenty of days that required both.

Good morning. You have a moment?" It's clever the way she says it, not as a question. I would have to contradict her in order to have my moment back. I make a note to use the method in the future.

She screamed, the high scream that was neither human nor animal but something terrible in between, the sort of sound that you never forget no matter how many beautiful things you hear afterward.