“Well, that was a beautiful wedding," Beezle said. "The bride has spider goo in her hair and the groom smells like sulfur. the parking-lot-in-front-of-the-burning warehouse location leaves something to be desired, and there was a distinct lack of refreshments, but otherwise, just lovely.”

“I huffed out a deep breath. “It’s something huge, isn’t it?” Beezle nodded. “Yup.” There was a sound of several limbs splashing in the water. “Is it all squishy and tentacly?” “Yup.” “I hate my life,” I said, and as I turned I conjured a ball of nightfire and threw it.”

“You came, you saw, you burned everything to the ground.”

“Gabriel is my bodyguard, " I said stiffly. J.B. snorted. "He wants something to do with your body, but it ain't guarding that he's thinking about.”

“I won’t walk through the wedding arch with you,” she said.“The arch is traditionally used by grooms with reluctant brides, for the arch is tall enough for a man with his woman on his shoulder.”As they reached the door, he bent and put his shoulder in her stomach. As if she were a sack of potatoes, he swung her up and over. Amy shrieked and gave his back a good hard thump.He dropped her down until her rear sat uppermost on his shoulder and her head dangled almost to his trousers, and kept walking. “Miss Victorine!” she shouted.“I’ll come as fast as I can, dears!” Miss Victorine called from the doorway. “Shame on you for appealing to an old lady for rescue.”

“With the refinements that come with maturity the smells faded out, to be replaced by only one other distinctly memorable, distinctly pleasurable smell - the odour of cunt. More particularly the odour that lingers on the fingers after playing with a woman, for, if it has not been noticed before, this smell is even more enjoyable, perhaps because it already carried with it the perfume of the past tense, than the odour of the cunt itself. But this odour, which belongs to maturity, is but a faint odour compared with the odours attaching to childhood. It is an odour which evaporates, almost as quickly in the mind's imagination, as in reality. One can remember many things about the woman one has loved but it is hard to remember the smell of her cunt - with anything like certitude. The smell of wet hair, on the other hand, a woman's wet hair, is much more powerful and lasting - why, I don't know.”

“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.”