“You're supposed to be a spirit of intellect. I don't understand why you're obsessed with sex."Bob's voice got defensive. "It's an academic interest, Harry.""Oh yeah? Well maybe I don't think it's fair to let your academia go peeping in other people's houses.""Wait a minute. My academia doesn't just peep -"I held up a hand. "Save it. I don't want to hear it."He grunted. "You're trivializing what getting out for a bit means to me, Harry. You're insulting my masculinity.""Bob," I said, "you're a skull . You don't have any masculinity to insult.""Oh yeah?" Bob challenged me. "Pot kettle black, Harry! Have you gotten a date yet? Huh? Most men have something better to do in the middle of the night than play with their chemistry sets.”

“I was sitting in my lab, my hand spread open on the table, while the skull examined my palm.I'd worn a mark there for years--an unblemished patch of skin amidst all the burn scars, in the perfect shape of the angelic sigil that was Lasciel's name.The mark was gone.In its place was just an irregular patch of unburned skin."It looks like there's no mark there anymore," Bob said.I sighed. "Thank you, Bob," I said. "It's good to have a professional opinion.""Well, what did you expect?" Bob said. The skull swiveled around on the table and tilted up to look at my face. "Hmmmmm. And you say the entity isn't responding to you anymore?""No. And she's always jumped every time I said frog.""Interesting," Bob said."What's that supposed to mean?""Well, from what you told me, this psychic attack the entity blocked for you was quite severe."I shivered, remembering. "Yeah.""And the process she used to accelerate your brain and shield you was traumatic as well.""Right. She said it could cause me brain damage.""Uh-huh," Bob said. "I think it did.""Huh?""See what I mean?" Bob asked cheerfully. "You're thicker already.""Harry get hammer," I said. "Smash stupid talky skull.”

“Oh, I get it," I said. "You're Evil Harry, lurking inside Good Harry. Right? And you only come out at night?”

“Hell's bells, Susan, you don't know what you've done. You've got to get outof here."She snorted. "Like hell.""I mean it," I said. "You're in danger.""Relax, Harry. I'm not letting anyone lick me, and I'm not looking anyone in the eyes. It's kind of like visiting New York.”

“How busy are you today?""Oh," he [Thomas] mused. "I don't know. I mean, I've got to get a new shirt now.""After that," I asked, "would you like to help me save the city? If you don't already have plans."He snorted. "You mean, would I like to follow you around, wondering what the hell is going on because you won't tell me everything, then get in a fight with something that is going to leave me in intensive care?""Uh-huh," I said, nodding, "pretty much.""Yeah," he said. "Okay.”

“My laboratory,' I said, experimentally, drawing out each syllable. 'Why is it that saying it like that always makes me want to follow it with 'mwoo-hah-hah-hahhhhh'? ''You were overexposed to Hammer Films as a child?' - Harry Dresden & Bob the Skull, Changes, Jim Butcher”

“I mean it," I said. "You're in danger.""Relax, Harry. I'm not letting anyone lick me, and I'm not looking anyone in the eyes. It's kind of like visiting New York.”