“A genius. A criminal mastermind. A millionaire. And he is only twelve years old.”

“A fifeteen-year old, of to save the world, with faries. - Angeline Fowl”

“People are afraid of you, Arty. Girls are terrified of you. You’re a fifteen-year-old in a bespoke suit, and nobody died.”

“That’s what I thought. When I looked that human in the face. I figured he was either a genius or crazy.” Artemis’s cool eyes glared at them from the screen. “So which is it?” asked Foaly. “A genius or crazy?”Root grabbed his tri-barreled blaster from the gun rack.“What’s the difference?”

“Trust me. I'm a genius.”

“Genius inspires resentment. A sad fact of life.”

“Holly winked. 'Do I look like a fly boy to you, Fowl?' Artemis had to admit that she didn't. Captain Short was extremely pretty in a dangerous sort of way. Black-widow pretty. Artemis was expecting puberty to hit in approximately eight months, and he suspected that at that point he would look at Holly in a different light. It was probably just as well that she was eighty years old.”