“For a moment, Strider almost forgot how pissed he was with Amun and Haidee as he savored the fact that he'd just cock-blocked the keeper of Death. Almost.”

“Hate. Huh. He'd never hated himself. If anything, he'd always liked himself a little too much. Once, a human female had even accused him of picturing his own face while he climaxed. He hadn't denied it, either, and next time he'd slept with her, he'd made sure to scream, "Strider" at the pivotal moment." --Strider, keeper of the demon of Defeat--”

“Back up. What questions? (Amun)Everything you asked me and more. (Haidee)Such as? (Amun)A blush stained her cheeks. Like was I going to have telepathic sex with you at the dinner table. Did I know how to cook something other than a PB and J. Was I ok with naked Thursdays.”

“He tried to calm his thoughts, but everything came back to what he'd almost done. Because he hadn't done anything, for years or ever, he had almost done this. Because he had no stories of valor, he had almost done this. Because the efforts he'd made towards creating something like a legacy had failed, he had almost done this.”

“He forgot about me almost as soon as I disappeared from sight.”

“Strider: "Pull Over," he commanded."What?" William flicked him a now's-not-the-time-to-joke glance. "We just got a little peace and quiet and you want to ruin it all just to piss? You're such a baby.""Red Hots, dude." He'd ruin ANYTHING for a mouthful of those. "Now pull the fuck over.""Oh, Gummy Bears. You should have said so.”