“Dresden. Am I interrupting something?""Well, I was going to settle down with a porn video and a bottle of baby oil, but I really don't have enough for two.”

“It would require a singularly stupid man to go hang around in narrow tunnels and cramped spaces alongside a threat like that."And I, Harry Dresden, am that man," I stated.”

“Right,' Thomas said. 'Where are we headed?''To where they treat me like royalty,' I said.'We're going to Burger King?'I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead and spelled fratricide in a subvocal mutter, but I had to spell out temporary insanity and justifiable homicide, too, before I calmed down enough to speak politely. 'Just take a left and drive. Please.''Well,' Thomas said, grinning, 'since you said 'please'- Thomas Raith & Harry Dresden, Small Favor, Jim Butcher”

“My name is Harry Dresden," I said.Fitz stumbled. "Holy shit," he said. "Like...that Harry Dresden? The professional wizard?""The one and only."He recovered his pace and shook his head. "I heard you were dead.""Well, yeah," I said, "but I'm taking it in stride.”

“...The next time I opened my eyes, I was in the morgue.This, all by itself, is enough to really ruin your day.I was lying on the examining table, and Butters, complete with his surgical gown and his tray of autopsy instruments, stood over me.'I'm not dead!' I sputtered. 'I'm not dead!'- Harry Dresden, Death Masks, Jim Butcher”

“And they have a problem with Dresden, I take it?" Murphy asked."Wanna kill him or something. I don't know," Thomas said, nodding. "They tried it on Jet Skis earlier today.""Roger Moore Bond villains?" Murphy asked, her tone derisive. "Seriously?""Be silent, mortal cow," snarled one of the Sidhe. Murphy tracked her eyes calmly over to that one, and she nodded once, as if memorizing something. "Yeah, okay. You.”

“Mister Dresden," he said. "And Miss Rodriguez, I believe. I didn't realize you were an art collector." "I am the foremost collector of velvet Elvii in the city of Chicago," I said at once. "Elvii?" Marcone inquired. "The plural could be Elvises, I guess," I said. "But if I say that too often, I start muttering to myself and calling things 'my precious,' so I usually go with the Latin plural.”