“Let's kill the big one with the red whiskers then," another suggested. "He looks like he might be troublesome, and he's probably too stupid to know anything useful." "I want that one," Barak whispered.”

“He hoots as he passes. Another one whistles. I know this is stupid, inviting trouble. But it feels so good to be wanted, I can't help myself.”

“She looked up, over the bandage that was nestled under her chin, and saw that the big-belly man with the red beard was starting at her, shaking his head. He looked like he was crying. "I got ya this time," he whispered, as if to himself. "This time, I got ya.”

“I want you," he whispered. "I've never wanted anything like I want you.”

“Yeah. And Savitar predates him. He has presided over this council since the very beginning, and notice, Savitar looks about thirty. We don’t know what he is, but he ain’t one of us and he ain’t human. And trust me, you don’t want to mess with him. (Paris)Thank you for that highly unamusing summation. Next time I have insomnia, I know who to call. In the meantime, little lioness who would probably like to live another year, don’t interrupt me again. I don’t like it and I tend to kill the things I don’t like. (Savitar)”

“Will nodded toward Hadrian. “Look at the swords he’s carrying. A man wearing one—maybe he knows how to use it, maybe not. A man carries two—he probably don’t know nothing about swords, but he wants you to think he does. But a man carrying three swords—that’s a lot of weight. No one’s gonna haul that much steel around unless he makes a living using them.”