“Maybe you know the monsters, Martin," Murphy said quietly. "But I know the guy who stops them. And if they don't return the girl, we'll make them regret it." She nodded at me and said, "Let's go. We can watch Dresden kill the bitch.”

“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.”

“Murphy, you rock! Go team Dresden!""Hey, I'm the one who rocks... Go team Murphy.”

“Oh," the girl said, shaking her head. "Don't be so simple. People adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. You know what a monster is, young shade? Power. Power and choice. Monsters make choices. Monsters shape the world. Monsters force us to become stronger, smarter, better. They sift the weak from the strong and provide a forge for the steeling of souls. Even as we curse monsters, we admire them. Seek to become them, in some ways." Her eyes became distant. "There are far, far worse things to be than a monster.”

“Stop," Kincaid said in a calm voice. "Unclench.""Unclench what?" Murphy demanded."Unclench your ass.""Excuse me?""You're going to trip the beam. You need another quarter inch. Relax.""I am relaxed," Murphy growled."Oh," Kincaid said. "Damn, great ass then.”

“I choose my battles, Dresden. Not you." She looked up at me calmly. "Let me put this in terms that will get through your skull: My friend is going to save a child from monsters. I'm going with him. That's what friends do, Harry.”

“You know the law, Dresden." "He who kills the cheer springs for beer," chanted the rest of the table.”