“You must be Warden Ramirez."This is the part where I got nervous. Ramirez loved women. Ramirez never shut up about women. Well, he never shut up about anything in general, but he'd go on and on about various conquests and feats of sexual athleticism and—"A virgin?" Lara blurted. Lara blurted. She turned her head to me, grey eyes several shades paler than they had been, and very wide. "Really, Harry, I'm not sure what to say. Is he a present?”

“That", I said, "is an awfully lovely woman. I thought I should let you know, kid, in case your inexperience had blinded you to the fact.""Lying," Ramirez stated, blushing. "Evil.”

“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.”

“It hurts!" bellowed Ramirez drunkenly, flinging a last pair of bolts at a fleeing ghoul. "Ow! Ow, it hurts! It hurts to be this *good*!”

“Harry," Bob drawled, his eye lights flickering smugly, "what you know about women, I could juggle.”

“About thirty feet from the door, Molly abruptly stopped in her tracks and said, "Harry."I paused and looked back at her.Her eyes were wide. She said, "I sense..."I narrowed my eyes. "Say it. You know you want to say it.""It is not a disturbance in the Force, she said, her voice half-exasperated.”

“Lara [Raith] was gorgeous, brilliant, and sexier than a Swedish bikini team hiking up a mountain of money.”