“You managed to get him a duster, but you couldn't find me a pair of jeans?”

“You don't have to get into writing – it's not like a pair of jeans... The only way to write is to write – the rest may or not follow.”

“It's strange to see such an evil-looking pair of eyes fill with pity. You couldn't get a more sympathetic response if Raffe had just told him they'd castrated him.”

“It wasn't enough to pass him as we were heading to your house or cutting over to the library. Soon you had to have sightings in the halls too. Then sightings turned to spying, and spying to stalking. You could tell me how many pairs of jeans he owned before you officially knew his name.”

“I’m going to play,’ says Armand, lacing his fingers and cracking the knuckles. ‘A pair of these lads can pump for me.’ ‘Is this a time for playing?’ asks Jean Baptiste. Then, ‘You are right. You have never been more so.”

“She couldn't get past him. After another minute, she screamed, "You'll never take me alive! I'll never let you get me to a secondary location!”