“Witches’ Warts! Looks like I’m going to have to break witch law again.”

“Witches don’t look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.”

“I’m not superstitious. I’m a witch. Witches aren’t superstitious. We are what people are superstitious of.”

“Who are you?''My name is Francesca Giordano.'Il re dei contrabbandieri paled. He pressed himself into the high back of his chair and stared at me in disbelief.'You can't be her. She's old and has warts.''Because she is strega? Ask yourself, why would any self-respecting witch go about looking old and with warts?”

“Women are impossible, witches are worse, and women who are powerful witches are going to be the death of me.”

“Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong." He gave me a sidelong smile. "Maybe it's not that kind of hunting." "Then you're definitely doing it wrong.”