“When I finally got tired of arguing with her and decided to write a novel as if I was some kind of formulaic, genre writing drone, just to prove to her how awful it would be, I wrote the first book of the Dresden Files.”

“I'm never really comfortable at parties. Maybe I'm just not the partying type....I think it's because I'm never sure what to do with myself.I mean, there're drinks, but I don't like being drunk.... There's music, but I never really learned to dance to anything that involved an electric guitar. There are people to talk to...but once you put all the stupid things I do aside, I'm really not that interesting. I like reading, staying home, going on walks with my dog.... Who wants to hear about that? Especially when I would have to scream it over music to which no one dances.So I'm there but not drinking, listening to music but not dancing, and trying to have conversations with near-strangers about anything other than my own stupid life.... Leads to a lot of awkward pauses. And then I start wondering why I showed up in the first place."-- Cold Days (The Dresden Files Book 14), pg. 33”

“Everything I told him was technically true, more or less, and I got the job done," Jack said stubbornly. "Look, sir, if I were perfect, I wouldn't be working here in the first place. Now, would I?"And then he hung up. On speakerphone. On a freaking archangel.I couldn't help it. I let out a rolling belly laugh. "I just got suckered into doing this by...Stars and stones, you didn't even know that he...Big bad angel boy, and you get the wool pulled over your eyes by..." I stopped trying to talk and just laughed.Uriel eyed the phone, then me, and then tucked the little device away again, clearly nonplussed. "It doesn't matter how well I believe I know your kind, Harry. They always manage to find some way to try my patience.”

“Wait. You don't understand. I just wanted it to stop. Wanted the hurting to stop."I smoothed a bloodied lock of hair from her eyes and felt very tired as I said, "The only people who never hurt are dead."The light died out of her eyes, her breath slowing. She whispered, barely audible, "I don't understand."I answered, "I don't either."A tear slid from her eye and mixed with the blood.Then she died.”

“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.”

“Well. You've got me cornered, don't you? I'm at your mercy." Her lips quirked. She took a drag of her cigarette. "And I like a man who just won't stop.”

“I didn’t have any money or ID. I didn’t have a credit card. Hell, I didn’t have a business card.What would it say? 'Harry Dresden, Winter Knight, Targets Slain, No Barbecues, Waterslides, or Fireworks Displays.”