“I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell.”

“I told you I would go to Hell to rescue you and that's just what I did... And I'd do it again.”

“Bloody hell," he gasped. "Harry. There's a *knife* in my leg. When did *that* happen?""In the duel," I told him. "Don't you remember?""I thought you'd stepped on me and sprained my ankle," Ramirez replied. Then he blinked again. "Bloody hell. There's a *knife* in my guts." He peered at them. "And they match.”

“I never truckled. I never took off the hat to Fashion and held it out for pennies. I told them the truth. They liked it or they didn't like it. What had that to do with me? I told them the truth.”

“Reader, did you ever hate? I hope not. I never did but once; and I trust I never shall again. Somebody has called it "the atmosphere of hell"; and I believe it is so.”

“Why did people call it Hell?" I wondered. [...] No place was Hell, no place could be Hell. It's the people calling it Hell, that's the only thing that made it so. People just sticking names on places, so that no one could see those places properly anymore. [...]No, Hell wasn't anything to do with place, Hell was all to do with people. Maybe Hell was people.”