And you, my best friend on earth, my soul sister who shares Chunky Monkey scoops and beefcake e-mails at the drop of a hat, the woman who made me wear a frothy, ruffled lime-colored bridesmaid dress that added fifteen pounds to my hips, are going to spill your guts to me, aren’t you? (Sunshine) No fair and the dress wasn’t lime, it was mint. (Selena) It was lime-icky green and I looked like a sick pistachio. (Sunshine)

Really, if that’s the case, you need to stop letting your mother dress you funny. It’s hard to take anyone serious as a killer when he looks like an investment banker. The only part of me that’s nervous is my checkbook. (Kat)

I feel I should warn you, I’m in a really bad mood. (Syn) You’ll be in a worse mood when we haul you in dead! (a Partini) ‘Syn grimaced in pain at a comment so stupid it didn’t even rate a snotty comeback.’ (Syn)

We have certain demons who are motivated by the smell of food. They tend to get rather violent whenever they smell it. I personally wouldn’t be caught eating anything because I would end up dead. You might not. But you’d still have to fight them, and since some of them are rather ugly and really, really smelly, it might spoil your appetite. Then again, maybe not. Doesn’t spoil Noir’s. I think it makes him hungrier, especially when he guts them. Sick, but true. (Asmodeus)

You’re the one who unleashed him. (Savitar) Yeah, well, let’s move on from the blame game. I was having suicidal thoughts and it seemed like a good idea at the time. In retrospect, not so much. (Stryker)

You can be known as Val or Babycakes.” His gaze darkened. “My name is Valerius and I will not answer to Val.” She shrugged. “Fine then, Babycakes, have it your way.

You do know I am my father’s son, right? People don’t talk to me that way and live. (Syn) Oh, like I fear you. Never. Besides, a fight might dislodge whatever has crawled up your sphincter and bring back the much nicer version of you. (Shahara)