"We all pay for life with death, so everything in between should be free."

"What ho!" I said."What ho!" said Motty."What ho! What ho!""What ho! What ho! What ho!"After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation."

"CONJUGATE THIS:"

"Artemis: (shocked) Why, Doctor? This is a sensitive area. For all you know I could be suffering from depression. Doctor Po: I suppose you could. Is that the case? Artemis: (head in hands) It's my mother, Doctor. Doctor Po: Yes? Artemis: My mother, she... Doctor Po: Your mother, yes? Artemis: She forces me to endure this ridiculous therapy when the school's so-called counsellors are little better than misguided do-gooders with degrees."

"You know, some people say life is short and that you could get hit by a bus at any moment and that you have to live each day like it's your last. Bullshit. Life is long. You're probably not gonna get hit by a bus. And you're gonna have to live with the choices you make for the next fifty years."

"I've never stunned anyone except in our D.A. lessons," said Luna, sounding mildly interested. "That was noisier than I thought it would be."

"Haven't you ever heard that modesty is an attractive trait?""Only from ugly people," Jace confided. "The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me." He winked at the girls, who giggled and hid behind their hair."

"I try to stay in a constant state of confusion just because of the expression it leaves on my face."

"Brianna dropped the skateboard in front of Sam. "Don't worry: I won't let you fall off." "Yeah? Then why did you bring the helmet?" Brianna tossed it to him. "In case you fall off."

"Never call anyone a baboon unless you are sure of your facts."

"I despise the rituals of fake friendship. I wish we could just claw each other's eyes out and call it a day"

"I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof."

"The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy also mentions alcohol. It says that the best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, the effect of which is like having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick."

"Why are you limping like that?' Nicholas demanded.'I'm swaggering,' I informed him.'You look like you're wearing a diaper.'Charming. And I had a crush on this guy.Wait. I had a crush on this guy?'Now what?' he asked. 'You're making weird faces.''Nothing,' I said quickly. 'Never mind."

"There's no trouble in this world so serious that it can't be cured with a hot bath, a glass of whiskey, and the Book of Common Prayer."

"Popularity's a weird thing. You can't really define it, and it's not cool to talk about, but you know it when you see it. Like a lazy eye, or porn."

"I mean, d'you know what eternity is? There's this big mountain, see, a mile high, at the end of the universe, and once every thousand years there's this little bird-""What little bird?" said Aziraphale suspiciously."This little bird I'm talking about. And every thousand years-""The same bird every thousand years?"Crowley hesitated. "Yeah," he said."Bloody ancient bird, then.""Okay. And every thousand years this bird flies-""-limps-""-flies all the way to this mountain and sharpens its beak-""Hold on. You can't do that. Between here and the end of the universe there's loads of-" The angel waved a hand expansively, if a little unsteadily. "Loads of buggerall, dear boy.""But it gets there anyway," Crowley persevered."How?""It doesn't matter!""It could use a space ship," said the angel.Crowley subsided a bit. "Yeah," he said. "If you like. Anyway, this bird-""Only it is the end of the universe we're talking about," said Aziraphale. "So it'd have to be one of those space ships where your descendants are the ones who get out at the other end. You have to tell your descendants, you say, When you get to the Mountain, you've got to-" He hesitated. "What havethey got to do?""Sharpen its beak on the mountain," said Crowley. "And then it flies back-""-in the space ship-""And after a thousand years it goes and does it all again," said Crowley quickly.There was a moment of drunken silence."Seems a lot of effort just to sharpen a beak," mused Aziraphale."Listen," said Crowley urgently, "the point is that when the bird has worn the mountain down to nothing, right, then-"Aziraphale opened his mouth. Crowley just knew he was going to make some point about the relative hardness of birds' beaks and granite mountains, and plunged on quickly."-then you still won't have finished watching The Sound of Music."Aziraphale froze."And you'll enjoy it," Crowley said relentlessly. "You really will.""My dear boy-""You won't have a choice.""Listen-""Heaven has no taste.""Now-""And not one single sushi restaurant."A look of pain crossed the angel's suddenly very serious face."

"Writers don't make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we don't work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmuck's book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another man's stupid words. And for this, as I said, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more."

"Siblings: children of the same parents, each of whom is perfectly normal until they get together."

"How can He be perfect? Everything He ever makes...dies."

"I died. I died and someone made a clerical error and I am in Heaven."

"I may not look like much, but I'm an expert at pretending to be a ninja."