"You would have made a fine warrior, you know that?"I am one. Death is my enemy."Yeah, it is, isn't it."God, it made such sense that he'd bonded with her. She was a fighter… like him. "Your scalpel's your dagger."Yup."
"You so need to lighten up about that potato-launcher incident,"Butch said.Phury rolled his eyes and eased back in the banquette. "You broke my window.""Of course we did. V and I were aiming for it.""Twice.""Thus proving that he and I are outstanding marksmen."
"There aren't any syringes."Red Sox came over and held a sterile pack out. When she tried to take it from him, he kept a grip on the thing. "I know you'll use this wisely.""Wisely?"She snapped the syringe out of his hand. "No, I'm going to poke him in the eye with it. Because that's what they trained me to do in medical school."
"An active mind didn't need distractions in its physical environment. It needed a collection of outstanding books and a good lamp. Maybe some cheese and crackers."
"Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me."
"Gimme an S! A T! An O! A C! Followed by a K-H-O-L-M! What's it spell? HEAD FUCK.- Jane"