Ready?" Jaime echoed. "Yes, yes, I am ready. I am ready to drink a lot of liquids and lie on the sofa moaning faintly all day long. That is what I am ready for. I cannot engage in physical activity of any sort or my head will fall right off. Is that what you want Nick? Because if so, I find that hurtful.

And what are you doing here, Nicholas? Decided to watch me sleep?" "Yes," said Nick, and bowed is head over his sword again. He had tissues, oil, and sandpaper laid out on the windowsill in front of him, and a little stone block he was passing his sword up and down, very carefully. "I came to gaze upon your sleeping face. Only you had the blanket over your head, so I just had to gaze at a lump I thought was your sleeping face, and that turned out to be your shoulder. Which just wasn't as special." ~Nick and Mae

On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes. “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.

It's Russell Montgomery the Third, actually," said Rusty, still grinning. "But I'd be obliged if you keep that bit of information to yourself." "I don't imagine any of us cares enough to remember," Jared said.

If you’re calling her a floozy, I’m by way of being a bit of a floozy myself.” “Oh, Jared,” said Kami, who was well aware of his romantic experience, or total lack thereof. “You are not.” “Well, I have floozy ambitions.

You're dying every minute, but you won't die yet.

Friends don't menace friends with giant terrifying swords, okay?