“Really, if this is being glaringly good I must confess that the glare does not dazzle me.”

“...and then she glared at me, the same glare my stepmother used to give me when I gave her the Nazi salute. That woman was so touchy about her resemblance to Hitler.”

“I really hate you sometimes.""There's a fine line between love and hate."I glared at him. "Dream on.”

“Does it have a name? All of these fancy magical weapons usually have names."Bishop glared at her. "Yeah. I like to call it Goldie.""You're funny for an angel.""Not really. I'm just inspired at the moment.”

“Hey!" I turned, crossing my arms and glaring. "I was talking to him!"Tybalt eyed me with amusement, which just made me glare harder. "No, you were inciting him to stab you with a toothpick. Again, the difference is small, but I think it matters.”

“They glared at her the way any intelligent persons ought to glare when what they need is a smoke, a bite, a cup of coffee, a piece of ass, or a good fast-paced story, and all they're getting is philosophy.”