When giants fought, ants were crushed.

Did you see my ninja move?That was fast, right?" "You are not a ninja, Shane." "I've watched all the movies. I just haven't gotten the certificate from the correspondence course yet.

About how much sex I didn’t get? Go ahead.

Claire was struggling through last summer’s diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon’s head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher.

Michael patted him on the shoulder. “I like this plan,” he said. “You and Eve, picking up cake and flowers, and you can’t even say a word. Should be tons of fun.” Shane almost choked, and gave Michael a sideways glare. Michael sent him a hundred-watt smile in return—no fangs, which was probably for the best.

What do you think it is?" "It could be anything from a lawn trimmer to a bomb, for all I know." "I would never build a lawn trimmer," Myrnin said. "What did the lawn ever do to me?

They don't know you're secretly a badass?