Daimons, vampires, ghouls, whatever you want to call them. They suck your blood and your soul and leave you with nothing. Kind of like lawyers. (Selena)

He wanted to work in Hot Woman Valhalla until he died of testosterone poisoning. (Nick)

Ooo, let’s see, I need to get my spicy barbecue sauce. Definitely some oven mitts, ‘cause he’s gonna be hot from being flame-broiled. I need to get a couple of them apple trees to make wood chips so the meat be nice and appley tasting. Give it that extra yumminess, ‘cause I don’t like that Daimon flavor. Ack! (Simi)

...You're omniscient, right?" "For the most part, yes." "Then you have to tell me this ‘cause I have to know. What's at the end of everything?" He shrugged. "That's easy enough." "Then tell me." "The letter G.

I’m going to be exposed, aren’t I? (Acheron) I don’t know. You planning on dropping your pants around me? If so, warn me first. I don’t want to go blind. (Savitar)

Uh-huh. You know with that sinister tone you should look into working for the IRS. I’m sure they’re desperate for people who can cow others with a single growl. (Susan)

Did you get hungry and eat my colleagues?