You know, sometimes I swear the whole universe runs on irony.

Never go anywhere without condiments. Condiments are our friends.

Eddie Drood: Is this why we become agents? To play games, to chase after secrets that are rarely worth all the blood spilled on their behalf...To end up stabbed in the back, just when you thought you'd won, bleeding out in some nameless backstreet...With most people never even knowing who you were, or what you did, or why it mattered?

Last night I dreamed I was still human, but now I have woken up, into something better. Farewell, my friends, farewell.

When you are tired of life, come to Haven. And someone will kill you.

Nothing is hidden, nothing is ever lost, nothing is ever forgotten. That's always been part of my problem.

When God wanted a city levelled, or all the first-born slaughtered in one night, he sent an angel.