“Sorry, Maggie, but I'm not into bondage. Even the subconscious kind.”
“I'd heard that if you saw a Reaper, you saw what you expected to see, what you thought the agents of Death would look like. Personally, I wanted to see little, fuzzy pink bunnies, but apparently my subconscious visualized tall, scary, and skeletal. My subconscious and I needed to have a long talk.”
“Sometimes I talk to myself in languages I'm unfamiliar with... just to screw with my subconscious.”
“Oh… God. What was a male supposed to do in this situation? "I'm sorry," he muttered. "If I… uh, hurt your feelings or something." She glared at him. "I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.”
“I'm sorry. But I am the Iron Queen, and you are in my way.”