Books can be terrible snobs.

What is the world coming to, when you can't even trust a rogue vicar and her demon lover?

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

The harsh, unyielding reality of having to compromise your ideals bit by bit, day by day, just to achieve a few little victories in the face of the world’s malice, or indifference. Until sometimes you wonder if there’s nothing left of you but the shell of the man you intended to be, just going through the motions because you’ve nothing better to do.

While the cat's away, you may find the rats getting damned uppity.

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

You want me to sneak up on an angel and rip out its pinfeathers, so you can make a fashion statement?