“And why does he talk so funny? Doesn't he mean squashed tomatoes?I don't think that they had tomatoes when he comes from, said Bod. And that's just how they talk then.”

“Bod shrugged. "So?" he said. "It's only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.”

“Bod quite liked crows. He thought they were funny and he liked the way they helped to keep the graveyard tidy.”

“We'll win, of course," he said. "You don't want that," said the demon. "Why not, pray?““Listen," said Crowley desperately, "how many musicians do you think your side have got, eh? First grade, I mean." Aziraphale looked taken aback. "Well, I should think-" he began. "Two," said Crowley. "Elgar and Liszt. That's all. We've got the rest. Beethoven, Brahms, all the Bachs, Mozart, the lot. Can you imagine eternity with Elgar?”

“Someone killed my Mother and my Father and my Sister?""Yes, someone did.""A Man?""A Man.""Which means," said Bod, "you're asking the wrong question."Silas raised an eyebrow. "How so?""Well," said Bod. "If I go outside in the world, the question isn't who will keep me safe from him?""No?""No. It's who will keep him safe from me?”

“Name the different kinds of people,’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living,’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘... Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.”

“Each of the dancers took a partner, the living with the dead, each to each. Bod reached out his hand and found himself touching fingers with, and gazing into the grey eyes of, the lady in the cobweb dress. She smiled at him.“Hello, Bod,” she said.“Hello,” he said, as he danced with her. “I don’t know your name.”“Names aren’t really important,” she said.“I love your horse. He’s so big! I never knew horses could be that big.”“He is gentle enough to bear the mightiest of you away on his broad back, and strong enough for the smallest of you as well.”“Can I ride him?” asked Bod.“One day,” she told him, and her cobweb skirts shimmered. “One day. Everybody does.”“Promise?”I promise.”