“She was so warm, her drenched clothes had almost dried. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. She started muttering, and I could’ve sworn she said, “Dung balls. Time to roll the dung balls.”It might’ve been funny—except for the fact that she was dying.“That’s Khepri talking,” Setne explained. “He’s the divine dung beetle, rolling the sun across the sky.”I didn’t want to process that—the idea that the girl I liked had been possessed by a dung beetle and was now having dreams about pushing a giant sphere of flaming poo across the sky.”

“Rowww!” Bast wailed. The wrecking ball rolled straight over her, but she didn’t appear hurt. She leaped off and pounced aain. Her knives sliced through the metal like wet clay. Within seconds, the wrecking ball was reduced to a mound of scraps.Bast sheathed her blades. “Safe now.”“You saved us from a metal ball,” Sadie said.“You never know,” Bast said. “It could’ve been hostile.”

“There is an admirable fact about the psychology of France: she knows no half measures, loathsome or sublime, she forges the thought and the beauty of a world or of a dung heap; her destiny is never to be mediocre.”

“Is my andarion rusty or did he just call us the ass of a dung beetle”

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry “That expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

“I can't wear a man's jacket with a ball gown." She rolls her eyes at him, sighs. But thanks, honey.”