“What are you doing with the child?" I inquired cautiously."I'm teachin' young James here the fine art of not pissing on his feet," he explained.”

“Avoiding me, Quen downed a swallow of wine. "Trent is a fine young man," he said, watching the remaining wine swirl."Yes... " I drawled, cautiously. "If you can call a drug lord and outlawed-medicine manufacturer a fine young man.”

“Do I have opinions that might piss people off? Yes - that's what I'm here for.”

“You do not interrupt a man when he is explaining his master plan after having been soundly defeated. Don't you watch any James Bond Movies?”

“Do you need someone to talk to?" she said gently. "Oh. Thank you. No, no, I'm fine." He touched his face – he'd been crying harder than he'd realized. "You sure? You don't look fine." "No, really. I've just . . . I've just had a very intense emotional experience." He held out one of his iPod headphones, as if that would explain it. "On here." "You're crying about music?" The woman looked at him as if he were some kind of pervert. "Well," said Duncan. "I'm not crying about it. I'm not sure that's the right preposition." She shook her head and walked off.”

“Who's James Bond?" Zabulon inquired.”