Life as the chosen religious figure for a colony of cryptid mice can be a lot of things, but it's definitely never boring.

I wanted the truth, and I wanted the news, and I'd be damned before I settled for anything less.

A martyr's just a casualty with really good PR.

I'd say it was nice knowing you, but as you've effectively ruined my life, it almost certainly hasn't been.

Sarah turned her narrow-eyed gaze on him, making me glad once more that Antimony's comic books got it wrong, and telepaths can't actually kill you with their brains. Give you a whopping headache and earworm you with annoying jingles, yes; kill you, no. (Although sometimes, when she's managed to stick "The Happy Banana Song" in my head for a week, I sort of wish she could kill people with her brain. It would be kinder.)

Being a King sort of sucks," I said. Quentin wrinkled his nose, "So does your outfit." "Blood is in this season.

Sometimes you need lies to stay alive.