Will Custer

“Hush, Harry. Or you'll go to the special hell."

I blinked at that, confused. I'm not supposed to be the guy who doesn't get the reference joke, dammit.”
― Jim Butcher, Cold Days

“Beckett placed the spectacles on his face. “Look at me,” he said. “I’m Myles Fowl. The vortex of the quadrangle is deteriorating my underpants.” And he was gone, back-flipping to earth and scampering across the garden like a boy who had been raised by beasts.”
― Eoin Colfer, The Fowl Twins

“A part of me always knew it. When you truly think about it, alone in the deeping hour, when the music stops and the babble stills and you stare hard into that bloody mirror of your soul, it’s impossible to reconcile the idea of a benevolent creator with a life that looks like this. To convince yourself the one above cares, when there’s so much horror and hurt and hate in the world. Only the blind can look into hellfire and smile. Only the coward raises a fist to his child and calls it love. And I was reminded of that time I spoke to Patience, then. Her little dead bird cupped in her palms. Her questions about why he died. I told you it’s hard to explain death to your child, vampire, but in truth, it’s impossible to explain any of this to anyone. So we settle. For the myth of the grand plan. For the fable of the God who loves us. We teach ourselves to believe in the lie, that all of it will make sense once we die.
‘But in truth, there’s no truth to any of it. We suffer because he wants it. We hurt because he wills it. We die because he likes it. And if there is a plan, coldblood, then this is the extent of it.’ Gabriel waved at the walls; the dark stone around them and empty night beyond. ‘A world on its knees. Begging for just one moment of mercy.”
― Jay Kristoff, Empire of the Damned

“What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally spit in the eye of destiny?”
― Jim Butcher, White Night