Stairs," Valkyrie said, disappointed."Not just ordinary stairs," Skulduggery told her as he led the way down. "Magic stairs.""Really?""Oh, yes."She followed him into the darkness. "How are they magic?""They just are.""In what way?""In a magicky way."She glared at the back of his head. "They aren't magic at all, are they?""Not really.

On the other side of St John’s house is a fake egg timer who can’t maintain an erection. He shares the property with a glossy beef burger called Tom, who has been painted by a seven year old magistrate in order to be entered for this year’s Miss East Lancashire competition. Next door to them is a Dundee cake with a lisp.

Well, we were always going to fail that one," said Ron gloomily as they ascended the marble staircase. He had just made Harry feel rather better by telling him how he told the examiner in detail about the ugly man with a wart on his nose in the crystal ball, only to look up and realize he had been describing the examiner's reflection.

Folks, it's time to evolve. That's why we're troubled. You know why our institutions are failing us, the church, the state, everything's failing? It's because, um – they're no longer relevant. We're supposed to keep evolving. Evolution did not end with us growing opposable thumbs. You do know that, right?

‎"Your heart is in your chest. It supplies the blood to your cells. Even if you don't think about it, your heart is always pumping. The heart is the most important organ in the body. Without it, you will die."'What grade are you teaching these days?' Joel asked. ' Because either this is really sad...or really profound.

This is the best night of my life," Raffy says, crying."Raffy, half our House has burnt down," I say wearily. "We don't have a kitchen.""Why do you always have to be so pessimistic?" she asks. "We can double up in our rooms and have a barbecue every night like the Cadets."Silently I vow to keep Raffy around for the rest of my life.

Bullshit,” says Viv. “Did you have your eyes open the other night in the pub? Mabe, I’ve never, ever seen him so happy and the way he was looking at you made even me melt. He’s in love with you.” “No, he isn’t.”“Yes, he is. It’s just unfortunate that he’s a fuckwit as well.

Oh, come on Em." He stopped walking and looked me in the eyes. His own were dark and shiny. "You know how I feel about you," he muttered."I do?"He stepped closer and whispered, "When you're around, music plays in my head."My eyes welled. "Music," I repeated softly."Well, you know." He grinned. "It's the Jaws theme. Da dum. Da dum.

I'm gonna kill him," Eve said, or at least that was what it sounded like filtered through the pillow.Stake him right in the heart, shove garlic up his ass, and-and-"And what?" (Michael)When did you get home?" Claire demanded.Apparently just in time to hear my funeral plans. I especially like the garlic up the ass. It's...different.

About three things I was absolutely certain. First, Edwart was most likely my soul mate, maybe. Second, there was a vampire part of him -- which I assumed was wildly out of his control -- that wanted me dead. And third, I unconditionally, irrevocably, impenetrably, heterogeneously, gynecologically, and disreputably wished he has kissed me.

I told her about the time that I got so tired of you stealing the sheets that in my sleep-weary logic I decided that the thing to do was to tie them around my legs, knot and all, and how, when you attempted to steal them that night, you ended up yanking me into you, and I was so startled that I sprang up, tripped, and was nearly concussed.

I suppose we should send someone to make sure the queen does not come to the wall also,” the king jested.“I would say that it is too late for that, my lord,” a feminine voice answered from the group gathered in the courtyard. They all turned to find the queen dressed in chain mail and wearing a conical helmet on her head.

While browsing in a second-hand bookshop one day, George Bernard Shaw was amused to find a copy of one of his own works which he himself had inscribed for a friend: "To ----, with esteem, George Bernard Shaw."He immediately purchased the book and returned it to the friend with a second inscription: "With renewed esteem, George Bernard Shaw.

Then what’s this?” She raised her glass of expensive wine, used it to indicate their plush surroundings.His gaze followed her indication around the dim-lit, upmarket Italian restaurant. “Dinner in comfort.”“With a side order of persuasion?”“More like an offer I’m hoping you can’t refuse.

No matter how you care to define it, I do not identify with the local group. Planet, species, race, nation, state, religion, party, union, club, association, neighborhood improvement committee; I have no interest in any of it. I love and treasure individuals as I meet them, I loathe and despise the groups they identify with and belong to.