“I miss my suits...”

“Will you miss him Holly?” he asked suddenly. [...] “No,” she said. “I will not miss him.” But her eyes told the real story.”

“Miss me? Bet you did ... so would I.”

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

“I'm on my feet, pacing around the room, punching a fist into my palm, which I stop doing when I realise how drama queen it feels.”

“I am charging you with the protection of my mother and friends, not to mention keeping my younger self off the Internet. He is as dangerous as Opal.”

“You know, Miss Holly, you look very dramatic like that, backlit by the fire. Very attractive, if I may say so. I know you shared a moment passionne with Artemis which he subsequently fouled up with his typical boorish behavior. Let me just throw something out there for you to consider while we're chasing the probe: I share Artemis's passion but not his boorishness. No pressure; just think about it.This was enough to elicit a deafening moment of silence even in the middle of a crisis, which Orion seemed to be blissfully unaffected by.”