“I don't believe in faeries!”

“The noise was deafening, and no one could have heard me anyway as I let out my own battle cry, which I figured was worth a shot. What the hell."I DON'T BELIEVE IN FAERIES!”

“Bite me, faerie fruitcake.”

“I don't have anything against God. Far from it. But I don't understand Him. And I don't trust a lot of the people that go around claiming that they're working in His best interests. Faeries and vampires and whatnot -- those I can fathom. Even demons. Sometimes, even the Fallen. I can understand why they do what they do. But I don't understand God. I don't understand how he could see the way people treat one another, and not chalk up the whole human race as a bad idea”

“Hey. I don't care what kind of faerie or mortal or hideous creature you are. If you've got danglies and can lose them, that's the kind of sight that make you reconsider the possible genitalia-related ramifications of your actions real damned quick.”

“You are a drug dealer. To tiny faeries. Shame."Sanya to Dresden”

“The best thing about my faerie godmother is that the creepy just keeps on coming.”