“Death comes to those who wait. And to those who don't. So either way…”

“.. an emergency stash of Thin Mints. Frickin' Girl Scouts. Those things were way to addictive. They had to be laced with crack." Charlie Davidson Fourth Grave Beneath my Feet”

“If I was going to go out tonight, I was going to go out fighting. Or screaming in agony. Either way.”

“I have them a few minutes to absorb everything while I teased Ubie, who only had to recover from his near-death experience. I was so glad Reyes hadn't ripped him to shreds. I liked him much better un-shredded. Unlike, say, my preference for lettuce or heavy metal guitar solos.”

“I think you need to water your plants," Garrett [Swopes, PI]called out to me [Charley Davidson, Grim Reaper and PI]."Oh, they're fake." He was looking at the plants I had along my windowsill. Either that or my mold problem was getting out of hand. After a long pause I heard, "Those are fake?""Yeah, I had to make them look real. A little spray paint, a little lighter fluid, and voila! Fake dying plants.""Why would you want fake dying plants?" he asked."Because if they were all thick and healthy-looking, anyone who knows me would realise they were fake.""Yeah, but is that really the point?""Duh.”

“Trust me," Cameron cut in, "there ain't a thing wrong with those two unless you count the unusual and exquisite length of their legs.Brooklyn turned a tight-lipped smile on him. "Thanks so much for that penis-driven observation.”

“Since I didn't have a candy wrapper to help me with the bad connection I was about to have, I resorted to using vocal sound effects. When Agent Carson picked up, I started my performance. "Agent... Agent Carson," I said, panting into the phone."Yes, Charley." She seemed unimpressed, but I wasn't about to stop now."I--I know who the kshshshshshsh are.""I'm a little busy right now, Davidson. What is a Ksh, and why do I care?""I'm sorry. My kshshsh... is kshshsh... ing."I repeat. What is a Ksh? And why do I care if it is ksh-ing?"She was a tough one. I knew I should have waited and bought a Butterfinger at the Jug-N-Chug. Those wrappers crakled like Rice Krispies on a Saturday morning. "You aren't listeni--kshshsh.""You're really bad at this.""Bank ro-ksh-ers. I know who they kshshsh.""Charley, if you don't cut this crap out."I hung up and turned off my phone before she could figure out what I was trying not to tell her and call back.”