“We didn't die,' she said.Of course not. I'm too clever to die, and you're too pretty.'I am pretty,' Valkryie said, managing a grin.”

“Happiness is an illusion, Natalie. It doesn't actually exist.""Of course it does," I said. "It's what you feel when you're not sad.""That's unconsciousness. And I'm pretty sure that I'm miserable when I am unconscious, too.”

“We are not going to die." Butters stared up at me, pale, his eyes terrified. "We're not?" "No. And do you know why?" He shook his head. "Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die." I hauled on the shirt even harder. "And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die.”

“What...what are you doing?""I won't know," he said with a grin. He took a step towards me. "But I'm pretty sure you were doing it too.”

“Even if you're going to die, you might as well die pretty.”

“A stray dog, I might understand," she said. "But this? You are too softhearted."No, Mabry," Ravus said. "I am not." He looked in Val's direction. "I think she wants to die."Maybe you can help her after all," Mabry said. "You're good at helping people die.”