We like what we like, we want what we want, and nobody needs to give us permission to feel that way!

You can't help being young, but it's past time that you stopped being stupid.

Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend." "Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children.

Stand aside, and try not to catch fire if I shed sparks of genius.

When you see the crooked Warden," said Locke, twisting something in his hands, "tell hi that Lock Lamora learns slowly, but he learns well. And when you see my friends, you tell them that there are more of you on the way.

You're ten pints of crazy in a one-pint glass.

What kind of knife is this?” Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains’ inspection. “It’s all wrong. You couldn’t kill anyone with this.