Laura Hinrichsen

“What's your problem with the Guild?"

"The only way to resolve it involves me being entangled in running it and I don't want to do it." I waved my arms. "I have the Consort crap and I have the Cutting Edge crap and whatever other bullshit the two of you throw my way. I don't want to go to the Guild every month and deal with their crap on top of everything else."

Curran leaned toward me. "I have to dress up and meet with those corpsefuckers once every three months and be civil while we're eating at the same table. You can deal with the Guild."

"You dress up? Wow, I had no idea that putting on your formal sweatpants was such a huge burden."

"Kate," Curran snarled. "They're not sweatpants, they are slacks and they have a belt. I have to wear shoes with fucking laces in them.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Gifts

“One does not simply ring Roland."
Oh boy. I supposed I would get a lecture on the dangers of wandering into Mordor next.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Shifts

“Bran grabbed my hand,pulled me to a chest, and swung the heavy lid open. A white cloth covered the contents. He jerked it aside. Human heads filled the chest.

"Oh God."

He scooped a mummified head from the chest by a scalp lock and thrust it at me. "All of them are mine."

This was officially the weirdest version of "come down to my place and I'll show you some etchings" I've ever been hit with.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Burns

“-You forgot something important!
-What?
-It's under my sweater!
-WHAT?!
-Me!”
― Cornelia Funke, The Thief Lord