“Looking for an entirely reliable informant is like looking for a chaste mistress.”

“Magnus sighed. "Alexander, I've been alive for hundreds of years. I've been with men, been with women - with faeries and warlocks and vampires, and even a djinn or two." He looked sideways at Maryse, who looked mildly horrified. "Too much information?”

“The weapons room looked exactly the way something called "the weapons room" sounded like it would look.”

“There was a small wooden gazebo built out over the water; Isabelle was sitting in it, staring out across the lake. She looked like a princess in a fairy tale, waiting at the top of her tower for someone to ride up and rescue her. Not that traditional princess behavior was like Isabelle at all. Isabelle with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time.”

“They're still looking at him.... At Will...""Of course they are.... Look at him. The face of a bad angel and eyes like the night sky in Hell.”

“They had just showed up, Amatis had said. Which meant Simon had spent the entire night at Isabelle's. She stared at him. He didn't look any different.”

“They kind of look like evil lawn gnomes”