“I would kiss you anyway, but I have a feeling that if I tried– (Rafael) I’d kick you in the nuts and tear your ear off. (Celena)That would hurt. (Rafael)That’s the idea. (Celena)”

“Her Squire, Celena, Ms. Blood Rite, I-kill-anything-that-breaks-formation, is on her way over here to have a word with you. Since Celena isn’t real big on conversation, I’m taking that as a euphemism for ‘kick your ass.’ (Rafael)”

“But it would be safer for you to patrol Starkville first and then head back this way. (Celena)And I was a pirate who laughed as he died and spat in the face of my killer. Safety’s not my concern. (Rafael)”

“The Daimons could, in theory, shoot you until you’re too weakened to fight them and then behead you. (Celena)Want to put a cone around my head like a dog to make sure they can’t decapitate me while we’re at it? (Rafael)”

“I’m here to take him into custody and deliver him to the Council. (Celena)Well, that sucks. Bank robbery, handing out the passwords for the Dark-Hunter Web site, carjacking, mugging, cats mixing with dogs, and now this…writing a short story. High crimes all. You get the rope and we’ll hang him for it. God forbid the whole twelve subscribers of that magazine should actually read a fictional story and think it real. (Rafael)”

“What do I do? (Jeff)Well, not to insult a man who looks like a rocket scientist in comparison to you, but…run, Forrest, run. (Rafael)”

“No matter how you disguise this trite bullshit, it’s my life, Jeff. Penned in an awkward manner. It’s things I didn’t want to see in black-and-white print. You’re lucky after three hundred years that I’ve mellowed. In my human days, I’d have slit your throat, pulled your tongue through the opening, and left you tied to a tree for the wolves to eat. (Rafael)”