Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the idignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as—" "Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.

It's inappropriate for the queen of the dead to be afraid of ghosts.

Has anyone ever told you that you lack focus?

I've always assumed he'd be around to be, you know, yelled at and taken for granted. And of course I was wrong. Nobody's going to put up with that forever.

She couldn't tell where his pupils ended and the irises began; looking into those eyes was like looking into a well where children had drowned.

Back off, boys. You don't want to mess with an out-of-work secretary. We're real testy.

Take your hands off her, Sinclair told the guy behind me, Or they'll write books about what I'll do to you.